


The Death Eater's Waltz

by naivety



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Voldemort Wins, Drama, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Psychological Torture, Romance, Severus Snape Lives, Slavery, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-20 13:36:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 36,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6008233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naivety/pseuds/naivety
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war was over. Everything Dumbledore had planned for so extensively all those years, everything the Order of the Phoenix had fought for, was done. Voldemort had all the power to himself, and decided to use it to restructure the Wizarding World. Rewards were given for his most loyal - enemies for his followers to torture. However, when Snape is given the chance to have his reward, he is presented with a dilemma: will he stay safe and sacrifice someone that helped him during the war?<br/><b>♡ COMPLETE STORY ♡</b></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Postwar

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to @Tati_Skywalker, my dearest beta. Without her, this story would never be published.
> 
>  **Postwar:** _interval immediately following the end of a war_.

The war was over.

 

But that didn’t mean things came down to the best possible resolution. Potter was dead, had been dead for a week now. Hogwarts would turn into a manufacturer for the next generation of death eaters, soon. Everything Dumbledore had planned for so extensively all those years, everything the Order of the Phoenix had fought for, was done. He still had some troubles trying to make the Elder Wand respond fully to him, even after he had won the wand by disarming him. But this, well, this was his smallest problem in the luxury realm he had created for himself.

 

Voldemort had laughed. When Narcissa returned, her hair a little bit messy, her eyes completely void, and had told that Potter was indeed dead, the Dark Lord laughed. Even if his death-eaters followed him for a long while now, they could not fully comprehend how his victory had tasted. How could they, after all? He was the one that had to live in the back of the head of that stupid moron, he was the one that had to hide, like the coward he wasn’t. All because of the _Potter_ boy, all because of that prophecy. He had lived years just planning, and waiting, and regaining his strength; while he watched the world act as if he had been just a bad dream.

 

Little did they know a bad dream had just _begun._

 

After Potter was killed, it wasn’t difficult to undermine the rest of the people by his side. Oh, there were some attempts to keep the high spirits of their side, the Longbottom boy had tried to give some tawdry speech, that just served to make Voldemort want to roll his eyes. Nagini then did her part and killed the boy, which brought some amusement for the remaining death eaters, that continued fighting through the slaughter. So, not only he got rid of Potter, but also Dumbledore’s backup prophecy. It was a day he would remember with great joy, certainly.

 

It had been one week since that glorious day, and Voldemort felt Draco staring at him, from where he was awkwardly standing as if waiting for his lord to explain why he had been called. Just a few days after the war was over, Voldemort took the Malfoy Manor for himself, as some sort of punishment for Lucius lack of faith. It didn’t help the fact that Narcissa had always looked a little unsettled about her family’s support for his cause. The only reason why Voldemort still had the Malfoys around was Draco. The boy would never know how important his step forward when his parents had called him to join Voldermort’s side had been for his strategy. How the other Death Eaters saw a palpable future to the cause when even the younger generation had joined their forces. He hadn’t won because of Draco, the boy was still a spoiled mommy’s boy, but it was indeed something that helped to tip the scale.

 

The main living room had turned into a room for his private amusement. He had a throne, made specifically from the wands of the Order of Phoenix’s members that had died. It was his requiem of victory. He waved his hand forward to the Malfoy boy, knowing he would understand he was authorized to come closer. The Elder Wand was poking through the gray cloak the Dark Lord was wearing. And even when the boy indeed stepped forward, the man leaned his torso against him, getting uncomfortably close. “Draco, my dear Draco.” He said, in his proper sarcastic tone, a wicked smile still dancing around his features, from when he was remembering his sweet victory.

 

“I want everyone to gather around here later. Dinner time, perhaps?” He added, his fingers intertwining against themselves as he moved back a bit on the throne. “There is a shipment arriving from Hogwarts. I thought it would have come sooner, but well… you know how much fun some of my followers are having with the survivors. But my patience has ended and, with it, their time.” He added, pursing his lips softly before she sighed. “Tell everyone I will finally reward my followers, my most loyal followers, with priceless gifts, to do as they wish.” He said with a small smirk. “And guess who will be the first one to choose which gift he desires?” The Dark Lord completed, pointing his bony index finger to Draco.

 

The Malfoy heir squirmed a bit in his place as if even standing was uncomfortable. He knew it would all be part of some plan the other man had. He wouldn’t allow him to get a reward if he didn’t want something in return. Because he had learned the hard way that Voldemort, as much as he talked about rewarding the loyal to him, always managed to use this rewards to get more from them. As if they turned into a debt. And even if something inside Draco was telling him he would better say no right now, he remembered what his mother had said, just after the war. _Do exactly as you are told because I won’t bear to see you like I saw the Potter boy._ So the blonde boy flicked his eyes down to the floor, barely nodding at Voldemort’s words.

 

“It will help you understand what is expected of you as my follower. It will separate the man from the child, because it’s past time that you start taking your own decisions, without _mommy’s_ input.” Was it weird that Draco always felt a hint of jealousy in his tone every time he talked about his mother and their relationship? “It will make you grow because I am tired of having just a boy as a follower. I see great things for you, Draco. For your future by my side. But for that to happen, you need to learn how to be a man.”

 

The boy nodded again, his eyes never leaving the floor. It was probably about him killing someone. No, _torturing_ someone. Everyone whispered about how Voldemort had turned bitter after Bellatrix had died in the hands of the Weasley mother. Because no one had a taste for torture like Bellatrix did. And, well, shipment always meant he was bringing in prisoners. At least it was what happened when the so-called last shipment arrived. A few Gryffindor boys, barely in their fifth year, who were murdered at a private party held by Voldemort, as a gift to Greyback.

 

“Everyone is invited to our dinner, Draco. However, not everyone will be gifted, only the most loyal, the ones that I feel that deserve a reward for their efforts during the war. And well, you.” He repeated, making clear the gift wasn’t because he was entirely pleased by Draco’s role during the war, but rather because he expected it would produce some change in him. “I want everyone here, nevertheless. It will make clear how much you lose when you don’t have full faith in my plans.”

 

The boy bowed softly, quickly stepping back from near the wand throne and walking back to comply with the duties assigned to him.

 

***

Snape looked down at the parchment delivered just under his door. He placed it with considerable strength on his desk, his hand finding his neck, which was still hurting since the end of the war. He had been disarmed and attacked by the bloody snake, all because Voldemort had been greedy about the wand’s obedience. He knew that he never intended on killing him, because well if he did Snape would be dead now. No, he wanted to make a point, to _himself_ and to the wand, about which of them was the most powerful.

 

The man shook his head, taking another look at the parchment and sighing with distaste. Dinner. If it wasn’t bad enough to live under the same roof as Voldemort, he still had to endure the dinners he hosted to torture and kill. Or _to gift_ , as he liked to call. The Malfoy Mansion was nearly a labyrinth, so many rooms, and too much space, someone could easily get lost inside that place. And when Voldemort decided to make it his home, the obvious unsafety of the place wouldn’t allow the man to live there completely alone. He had to shield himself from anything that tried to strip him of his power. And the threat he knew still existed, even if it felt numb and asleep for now.

 

So their first gift was the pleasure and the honor to live in the Dark Lord’s headquarters. To live in the court he had created to himself. Where everything was luxurious, but always under his tight control. It was a manner to shield himself from the outside and make sure his closest and most prominent followers were under his claws. That way, he also created a competition with the other Death Eaters, the one excluded from the private club that was formed inside the Manor, and made them crave the acceptance and the support he only seemed to give a few.

 

The line of thought was brilliant, nothing less than Snape would have expected from Voldemort, but it showed very clearly if you were clever enough to observe, that the Dark Lord still felt insecure about his position. He had all the power, but he was still looking over his shoulder, as he had always had done. Potter was dead, but not even this calmed his mind.

 

Snape looked at the clock above his bed and sighed, knowing if he didn’t get ready, and presented himself at the living room, Voldemort would get angry. He always craved for punctuality, and for formality. The black-haired man quickly changed into something more proper for the type of dinner that was hosted over the Malfoy Manor, but that didn’t look very different from his everyday clothing. As his hands touched the doorknob, he took a deep breath before opening the door, his lips already pursed in fretfulness.

 

The living room was already crowded, even if it was still ten minutes before the time indicated on the parchment. He could see Avery, Greyback, and Dolohov anxiously talking with each other, closer to the wand throne than anyone else. They seemed certain they were amongst the ones to be rewarded today, thing Snape highly doubted as Greyback had already gotten his own private party. Draco was standing by Lucius,as usual, and looked nervous and uncomfortable. Narcissa observed them both from a safe distance, her arms crossed in front of her breasts, the short sleeves making sure to show she born no dark mark, unlike the rest of them.

 

Snape leaned against the wall on the other side of the room, not really seeing himself in the mood for the kind of conversation they were probably having. It was nothing he hadn’t heard the whole week. Lucius was scared to death, Draco was trying to prove himself, Greyback wanted to bite someone or something, Dolohov couldn’t keep his cock inside his pants with the growing desire to rape someone, while Avery just looked forward to the violence, it didn’t matter if he was the responsible to inflict it or just a viewer. Nothing that Snape wasn’t tired of seeing, hearing and growing bored with.

 

Suddenly, and not surprisingly at the exact time, Voldemort surfaced from one of the side corridors and gave the audience one of his wicked and smiles, that appeared far more often nowadays. Snape tried to keep his expression blank and give his mind another layer of protection, as he regularly did when in the same room as the Dark Lord. Most of the Death Eaters were stupid enough not to penetrate even a single layer of his occlumency, but he was smart enough to respect Voldemort’s intelligence.

 

“My friends…” the Dark Lord said, opening his arms as if he could welcome them all with the gesture. “We are here to celebrate. Again. Once more. Because the celebration of our victory shouldn’t be stopped, not until everyone that did their part in it is rewarded.” The Dark Lord moved from one side to the other of the room, in front of his throne, but never walking closer to the rest of the people. “And today, like it’s common during our dinners, a few of you will be rewarded…” The wizard could not avoid a small sarcastic laugh before continuing. “And so well rewarded, by your cooperation and your patience…”

 

Everyone heard a loud noise coming from the main door, where a few of the Death Eaters responsible for the prisoners in Hogwarts came in, pointing their wands at small iron cages, that floated in the air, above everyone’s head. The cages were obviously too small to keep someone inside comfortably, so the prisoners looked quite squeezed inside the metal bars. Snape observed, as each one of the cages crossed the room, and was stacked neatly just by Voldemort’s side.

 

 _Girls_. Snape flicked his eyes through the metal bars, counting five girls, all of them so dirty and so visibly thin, he couldn’t fully recognize any of them from this distance. He flicked his eyes to the other side of the room, as Narcissa turned her head away from the scene and Dolohov began to lick his own lips. If they had fought for the pleasure to kill a few boys, he only imagined what these death eaters would offer to own one of the girls.

 

“I decided on an order… a proper order for each one of my rewarded to choose. Based on what, and how much, I expect from you in the future. Based on how faithful you have been even during my downfall. So that order might come as a surprise, but as I said… the celebrations won’t stop until every one of you is… _satiated_.” With this, he pointed at Draco with his bony fingers, a serious expression on his face as some gossip began in the back of the room. “Draco, you are first…”

 

The boy stepped forward, a little less uncomfortable than he was earlier, thankful he at least knew what to expect. Voldemort tapped his back softly and showed the small cages as if he were a seller trying to find a buyer for a jewel. “Go on, choose the one you want to have. Any of them. Choose with revenge…” He said, knowing exactly what to expect from Draco. Knowing exactly the one he would choose. Because he had spared her just so the boy could be trained.

 

It took a long time for Snape to recognize why Draco so suddenly looked extremely timid. The boy’s eyes fell to the floor, and he seemed to swallow hard once or twice before he rose his eyes. The Granger girl. Her brunette hair was everywhere, so dirty and so messy he took a while to recognize her features. But the brave and arrogant look was still there. The fire burning in her eyes, one she had since she was a small child. Snape knew that Draco wasn’t given much choice, even if he was supposed to be the first one to choose after all. Because for anyone that knew even a little bit about the boy, it was clear he could only choose the mudblood girl.

 

“I will have her.” He finally said, touching the metal bars lightly with his fingers before he rose his eyes to Voldemort’s. Snape didn’t know if Voldemort knew about the slap she had given him during their third year. This was his chance, to practice without staining his hands… because, well, in Voldemort’s reign of terror, mudbloods weren’t even considered people.

 

Lucius surfaced behind his son, taking his wand from inside his pocket and casting the same spell that brought the cages inside, making the Granger girl float in the air and be guided towards the stairs. Draco’s room. The boy bowed softly at the Dark Lord, giving him a half-nervous smile and thanking him for his generosity. When he disappeared upstairs, the Dark Lord returned his eyes to the audience and smiled again. “If the next generation isn’t well-trained everything we fought for will be in vain. That is why the boy got the first choice.” He said, but the last word sounded a lot like an irony.

 

“The second rewarded tonight is someone that nearly gave his most precious asset to my cause. His own life. He trusted in me and supported me while the majority of you turned your face away. While you disgusted me with your fear…” He said, spitting the words as if the time still brought him angry memories. “And that is why he is the first tonight to really deserve it. Not my main soldier during the war, but a soldier indeed, don’t you think so, Severus?”

 

Snape felt his eyebrow-raising as he looked at Dark Lord, a little bit surprised by his choice. He would never think he would be rewarded tonight. He fainted, like a child, at the sight of blood, and didn’t even fight. Didn’t even have time to expose the truth. That he was loyal to Dumbledore, after all. In the end, it was for the best. His pretense continued because now, more than ever, it was the only thing that kept him alive. “But… _Sir_ …” He tried quickly, his hair falling over his eyes as he tried to think of excuses.

 

“Stop playing dull, Severus. My patience is really thin and I am very hungry.” He said, waving his hand for him to come closer. The former professor got in front of the cages, his eyes not staring at them, but rather at Voldemort, as he considered. He couldn’t… he wouldn’t hurt any of those girls. Why take them? To have someone else to take care of, besides himself? To risk himself even more? “My Lord, I appreciate the gesture but I don’t need it.” He finally said.

 

The Dark Lord rolled his eyes and pointed the cages again. “You can’t refuse my gifts. This is really improper, Severus. Really improper.” He repeated, visibly growing moody at his refusal. “Stop acting like the proper gentleman you like you like to pretend to yourself you are, and start acting like someone that earned his prize.”

 

Finally, Snape flicked his eyes back to the cages. Yes, he recognized the two girls in the top of the pile, but he couldn’t even remember their names. They were both brunettes, perhaps even related, but they were so dirty and kept their heads down, so he just turned his eyes away from them. The man looked down at the girls trapped in the bottom of the pile, quickly recognizing one of them. Definitely the sixth year, he remembered how awful that girl was in potions, and how many times she seemed to fail, no matter how many times he explained the procedures over and over again. And then his eyes found the last girl, trapped against the back of the cage, the only one staring him straight in the eye.

 

 _And then it hit him_.

 

He was back at the boathouse. The attack had been exceedingly effective. He was bleeding, left behind to his own misery by a very pleased Voldemort. Not dead, but not strong enough to go fight again. He passed out for a while, waking up not fully aware of his surroundings. His sight was turbid, but he could remember her long hair clearly, waving around her waist as she moved quickly from one side to the other, trying to stop the bleeding with nervous hands. Not too long after it, Avery had found her, her soft hands against his neck, and screamed about her killing one of the Death Eaters. The girl fought as the larger man got her by her waist, yelled at him, as Avery looked down at the hurt man. His orders were to find fugitives, not to tend harmed people. That, associated with the fact Snape was indeed great competition to the Dark Lord’s favorite, made him step outside the boathouse leaving Snape to his luck.

 

The memory was always pushed to the back of his mind as he allowed himself to wonder for a second why she had decided to help. But it quickly returned to its place, knowing the chances she was still alive were petty. He never once tried to consider why she would have done it, why show kindness to someone that had not even once treated her properly, because he didn’t want to mourn the memory of someone else that had died. Someone that tried to help him while he had failed to do the same.

 

 _Luna_.

 

His eyes flicked to Avery as he made a noise behind him, looking at his angry eyes, and at that moment he knew that if he didn’t choose her, he would. And her life, at least the end of her life, could not turn out more miserable. “I want her.” He finally said, not giving Voldemort even a second look as he opened the cage. He picked the girl by her upper arm, tight and clearly rough, and pulled her with him towards the crowd, that seemed to quickly divide to let him pass. Avery seemed like he wanted to yell something at Snape, as the dirty blonde hair of the girl waved on her back.


	2. M.I.A.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me so long to publish a new chapter of this story. My beta was super busy this last year, so I chose to deliver new chapters without any revision. Forgive me for any mistakes!
> 
>  
> 
> **M.I.A.** : _a soldier who was not found after a battle and who may or may not be dead; who is missing in action._

Luna was kind of numb, and also a little bit groggy. They had been all target to multiples cruciatus curses, so they wouldn’t fight during the trip back to the headquarters. She had kept quiet, almost without moving inside her small cage, not daring even to look at the other girls, too scared that she might end up recognizing them. And seeing someone else suffering with her was even worse than passing by it alone. At least for her, it felt that way. She had spent the few hours on the train holding the upper part of her belly, that hurt a lot. Her back also hurt, but she knew what to expect there, and she was clever enough not to try and touch it.

 

When they arrived, she continued as quiet as it was possible, her head facing the floor, until she heard Draco’s name being called. She couldn’t avoid raising her eyes to the blonde boy. He, on the other hand, didn’t even look at her. His eyes seemed locked on the girl above her as if there was no other option for him. She didn’t want to, but it was impossible to avoid her eyes from darting to the cage just above her. _Hermione_. She felt her eyes growing wide as she swallowed hard, knowing she would only get even more hurt if she tried anything. Her eyes scanned the room, trying to find a way out, but by the number of Death Eaters observing them, it was impossible. It was futile to fight a lost battle.

 

_So many lost battles._

 

Things happened so quickly after it. Voldemort called Snape to choose what he called a reward and soon he was opening her small cage and forcing her to walk with him. Avery, the man that had caught her, and that seemed mad at Snape for choosing her, yelled some swearing, to which everyone else seemed to laugh. But he was just taken for a bad loser, no one lost time trying to problematize his actions.

 

And so, not too much time after she had floated inside the Malfoy Manor, the girl was walking somewhere with her former professor, his rough hands pulling her by her arms, as he looked anxious to get away from the crowd. But she felt like her legs couldn’t keep up with the large paces he had. And inevitably she felt against the floor, her arm turning a bit forward as he kept trying to hold her by it. Snape groaned, as if her falling made him extremely mad, and turned back, picking her up by her small waist. He didn’t say a word, just stared at her with his usual pursed lips.

 

His room was on the first floor, incredibly close to the main door that leads to the street. The crowd was left behind, but as they passed a few house elves rose their heads to look at them. When Snape finally reached his door, he opened it quickly and pushed her inside, closing it behind his back.

 

Luna had fallen hard against the floor, her legs still not completely working from the few curses that the ones responsible for the shipment had cast over her. She was still a little bit confused by everything, and what it meant. She recognized Snape, but not the look in his eyes, or this tone of anxiety that was so clear around him. He was always so proper, so arrogant, so full of himself… and now he looked like a confused mess, as his eyes darted from her figure on the floor to the wall behind her.

 

“So they didn’t kill you.”

 

It wasn’t a question, but even as an affirmation, it was an incredibly awful one. The professor seemed to take a deep sigh before he continued. Why had he done it? Why couldn’t he do the right thing, the easiest thing to keep him alive, and inform Voldemort that no, thank you very much, he wasn’t interested in a personal slave. Because his former student presence around his room, and in his life would only complicate things. Why he seemed bound to do things like this? To try for a role he wasn’t made for?

 

He wasn’t like James Potter. Or even like his son, the stupid boy that died for nothing. The boy that sacrificed himself for the good, and that in the end, would turn out to be just a memory in the heart of rebels. Severus Snape wasn’t like them. Deep down, he considered himself a coward. He was no hero, he wasn’t going to rescue anybody, and he would need to be happy just living his miserable life. Because Dumbledore was dead, and there was no way anyone would know what he had done. No one to be a witness that even if he was indeed seduced by the evil, he had done the right thing.

 

 _Because no one cared anymore_.

 

So why he had assumed a responsibility when he was finally free from being a nanny to the Potter boy, or even to Draco? Why couldn’t he get used to the fact that it was over, that he would never redeem himself, that the promises he made Lily would never, ever be fulfilled? Why did he keep trying to be something he would **never** be?

 

When he finally moves his eyes from the wall behind her, Luna flicked her own eyes over the floor for the first time since the living room meeting. She didn’t want him to think she was staring. Even if she was. But she was dragged to it: he always had looked sad, but now… now he looked miserable. As if he had nothing left to live for. She blinked a few times, trying to raise from the floor as he finally seemed to notice her again in front of him. “Avery took me.” She said, her voice sounding a little bit hoarse. She had screamed so much, cried so hard, she knew her voice didn’t even sound any more like her own. “When I was trying to help you. I am locked since that day.”

 

Snape just observed the girl, as she tried to raise from the floor but seemed still too weak to do so. A week. Seven days. She was much more destroyed in a week than he would have expected. Her blonde long hair was completely tangled, nearly brown from dirty, and her clothing looked like something taken from a house elf, a ripped dress that barely covered her thighs. He allowed his eyes to scan by her figure, taking in if she had any bruises or apparent wound.

 

“You need a bath.” He merely said, trying to sound as distant as he could. “I will find something for you to wear, just throw whatever is this you are wearing on the trash.” He completed quickly, pointing the bathroom door with his finger. The girl tried again to rise from the floor, nodding softly at his order. “Yes, professor.” She said, more for the force of habit than anything else.

 

Luna moved to the bathroom door, holding on the walls and then the bed. She closed the door softly behind her, making barely a sound before she sighed in relief. Snape scared her. Why he wouldn’t, after terrorizing her friend like he had, and all the times he had looked at her as if she was something inferior. But if she had anything positive to say about her former professor, it was the fact he seemed _less_ dangerous to be around than any of the other Death Eaters. She took a deep breath, the air coming quickly from her lips as she tried to think and process what she needed to do.

 

The shower was cold, and even if she normally preferred hot water, this time it felt like a perfect thing on Earth. She took the ripped dress by her head, throwing it in the trash can just near the sink, and then her panties, that followed to the same place. She moved to the shower, that had the water running already, but the reflection in a full-body mirror next to it caught her attention.

 

Her body was very much filthy, but her attention was draught to the purple bruises under her breasts, that followed down her belly until it reached her thighs. She turned back around her fingertips touching the junction of her shoulder and back, which was taken by burns. She tried to hold a painful moan as she touched a small burned area, swallowing hard as she forced herself not to cry. It looked ugly, obviously, but it was not close to what she had felt.

 

The Death Eaters had joked about how the cruciatus curse, instead of driving her crazy, would actually fix her mind. They liked mostly to use it on her, and another spell she had never heard before, that left traces of burned flesh by where it passed. She wasn’t raped, but just because the Dark Lord had chosen himself some girls to be given away to his most dedicated followers. The Death Eaters back in Hogwarts, that had turned the place in a dungeon, had laughed and told her how _lucky_ she was.

 

She felt anything but lucky. As she finally stepped into the shower, a louder painful moan left her lips, a few tears rolling by her cheeks as the water ran by her burned back. She remembered how she knew they would come by how they made sure to be noisy. To chat and to laugh out loud. To make her fear and shiver during the small few seconds that took to enter the room she was kept in. Inside her head, not being raped didn’t feel like something she was lucky for because they just got harder on any other form of torture. As if to make sure she was punished for not being available.

 

When she finally left the shower, taking an eternity to wash her hair and her body, she wrapped herself in a towel, not even daring to prolong her pain by drying herself. She opened the door, finding Snape without any effort, sitting by the door, on the desk’s chair. He looked at her with little interest, giving her a small nod as if to indicate the social white shirt over the bed, neatly spread and not even a single bit wrinkled.

 

“Thank you.” She forced herself to say, almost too formal, as her fingers found the shirt and took them with her back to the bathroom. When she was finally back for good, her hair was still wet against her shoulder, reaching her waist. The shirt was covering her pretty much because she was way shorter than the owner of it. She bit her lower lip softly as she looked around, Snape still in the same position.

 

“I brought you a mattress.” He said, his monosyllabic tone making clear he didn’t plan to change it anytime soon. He pointed it, placed between the large bed and the wall that had the door with access to the bathroom. As far from the door as it was possible, she could see it clearly. Was it completely planned or he just randomly decided to place it there? The mattress wasn’t covered with anything, and he didn’t seem to have separated a set of blankets for her, but she chose to keep quiet.

 

The girl sat down on the mattress on the floor, brushing her hair slowly with her fingers. _Like a mermaid_ , she thought, trying to give herself the chance to think about something positive. She used to do it a lot before the last war. She always tried to see the good in people, always tried to think about the positive outcome of everything she did. But it was really hard to practice it during the last week. It was hard to think about anything positive after the first three days, to think about anything at all, except the pain and fear she felt.

 

But if she allowed herself to keep doing it, she would let them win. They would have broken her spirit and everything that was part of her. Therefore, she allowed herself to chuckle at the thought of her fingers brushing her hair, and how it made her feel like a mermaid. A mermaid with long, pale and blonde hair, that could swim away with the little fishes on the sea, and be free…

 

Her eyes found Snape’s as he looked at her with a raised eyebrow. Oh, of course. She had just been brought from torture confinement and she was laughing like a crazy person. She quickly softened her expression, turning serious again. “You should sleep.” He said dry, his eyebrows leveling again slowly, to which she answered with a small nod. Perhaps he was right to look at her that way like she had turned out crazy. Could it be that she had lost part of her sanity and didn’t even know the signs?

 

“Goodnight.” She whispered softly, laying down on the mattress and forcing her eyes shut. It felt comfortable. It was obviously new and never used before because it was flat and didn’t have any protuberance molded from the previous owner. It also smelled like new. She curled up in a small ball, for the first time considering it would have been wiser to ask him for a blanket.

 

***

 

Mrs. Weasley smiled softly as she opened the door, seeing the three individuals on the other side with happiness. She rushed them inside, looking at each side of the street before closing the door behind her. One of them slipped the hood from their head and exposed a light hair. “It’s good to see you again, Molly.” The tone was extremely friendly, and the French accent very clear as she looked at the ginger woman. Her husband had pulled the hood from his head too, giving the older woman a soft kiss on her temple.

 

“I am sorry we took so long, mother. They raised the vigilance. It was nearly impossible to know who to trust.”

 

“We can’t trust anybody, that is the whole point.” The third figure said, not taking the hood from his head. Molly gave him one of her cute smirks and smiled. The poor thing was just overly nervous.

 

“Harry dear, let’s take a cup of tea before discussing the plan, shall we?”

 

 


	3. Abatis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Abatis** : _an obstacle or barricade of trees with bent or sharpened branches directed toward an enemy._

Luna had woken up for nearly three hours now, but Snape was nowhere to be found.

 

She couldn’t avoid feeling confused. In the moment she saw him, hovering over the small cage in the living room of the Malfoy’s her first thought was that she was finally safe. From Harry to Hermione, everyone else seemed to hate Snape and feel convinced he was the one to blame for Voldemort regaining strength. However, until the last minute, Luna was trying to presume him innocent, until otherwise proved. Because he was a professor after all, and Dumbledore wouldn’t trust him if he didn’t have enough good reasons to.

 

But, as she could finally think straight after a whole week being tortured without rest, she could also see how naïve she was being. Snape was just hovering over her cage in the living room because he was on Voldemort’s side. Snape could only choose second because she was faithful to their cause. Wasn’t that what Voldemort had explained to everyone in the room that day?

 

She felt like vomiting. She felt like everything those hateful Slytherins said for so long about her. Naive, stupid, _childish_. She knew other people in that room better than she knew him. Draco, for an example. However, Draco was her classmate, and since the beginning tried to make pretty clear he didn’t like her. And even if Snape had been her professor, and treated her very poorly multiple times, he was still her professor. He could be harsh and rude, but he was supposed to protect Hogwarts’ students. She could only think of him as anything related to safety because of that.

 

It felt a lot like her positivity was being ripped from her soul when she realized she couldn’t trust Snape.

 

“Good, you didn’t have any stupid ideas” Snape said, from across the room, before his hands softly closed the door behind him. Luna’s eyes darted from his figure back to the book on her hands. She had found it on his nightstand. When she woke up, she looked around the room, observing his stuff before her epiphany had taken control. She didn’t know why, but in the end, she was sitting on his bed, holding the book against her chest as she took her conclusions. The girl closed the book on her hands, looking at his eyes with apprehension. Would he grow mad that for a few minutes she got enough bored to go through his stuff?

 

“I am sorry, Professor…” She whispered sheepishly, hating how she sounded as if they were back at Hogwarts. She placed the book back on the nightstand, right next to her. She could feel his eyes staring at her as if analyzing what she had done. Luna knew he was a very private person, it was obvious when he grew completely maniac when Harry discovered he was the Half-Blood Prince.

 

“There is no problem.” He said, and his usual arrogant tone felt less present on his voice in that moment. After all, her sin hadn’t been that offensive to him. His eyes moved to the cover of the book he had read a thousand of times. Just another potions manual, but the routine of reading it once more had proved to ease his heart. “About reading, I mean.” He completed, finally leaving his position by the door and sitting on the chair in front of his bed.

 

Luna nodded her head slowly, her hair moving around her as she tried to keep quiet. She thought their conversation was over now, and he would proceed to do whatever he usually did. She was thankful enough that hadn’t irritated him enough to apply a curse on her. However, to her surprise, he took two small vials from his cloak’s pocket and rose from his seat. He walked to her and placed them on the bed, right next to her hands, where she could easily pick them up. “It’s for your bruises.” He stated simply since it was enough to make her understand.

 

The girl swallowed hard, her eyes scanning the blue vial and then moving to the yellowish one. Obviously, he was not stupid, knowing exactly what sort of things she had been through when she was locked up. Or he had an idea, at least. As if her mental state wasn’t confused enough, he was there presenting her with potions to ease her pain? She rose her gray eyes, that were squeezed as she tried to understand what this represented.

 

“What do you want from it?” She stated, also very simple, and way more direct than she would have been normally about someone like Snape. He could only want something back, right? Why someone that took her as a slave, that supported a wizard that institutionalized that some people were less than humans, would do something good to her? “You must want something from it, but I… I can’t give you anything.”

 

“What makes you think I want something from it?” Snape spat back after a few seconds, looking at her as if she had called him unspeakable names. His nostrils had inflated, making his expression more mean than any other since he had chosen her during dinner. He wanted to slap her face for making such a question. There he was, once more, being a nanny to one of Dumbledore’s student, and only receiving effrontery back. He shook his head, taking a step back as if he couldn’t stand being that close to her figure on the bed.

 

Luna observed his expression change so quickly she felt stupid for poking the bear. She was indeed right, she couldn’t use her nostalgic memory to trust a man who was a proven loyal Dark Lord follower. But she shouldn’t provoke him, not after knowing what a whole week of unstoppable torture felt like. “I know what you chose me for. Which objective not only you but also _him,_ had in mind. Is this why you are giving me a potion to heal my bruises?”

 

It took more than three whole minutes for Snape to understand the meaning of her words. And it was an eternity for someone that considered himself a person with a high level of intelligence. His inflated nostrils and his angry expression for those three minutes turned into his usual raised eyebrow as if he was trying, _really hard_ , to understand what she meant. Not because he was stupid, no. But rather because he would never have expected Luna, that small loony lost Luna, to be bold enough to make such a statement.

 

It was very much clear than when he finally gave in and recognized the meaning behind her words. So she couldn’t accept he was being kind? Even generous? She had, like everybody else, to correlate everything he did to hidden agenda? His desire to slap her in the face had just grown because once more it was proven that no one was able to see any sort of kindness in him. Even when he was trying to do so.

 

Snape passed one of his hands on his hair, taking a deep breath, that had no objective to calm himself. He looked at the small blonde girl on his bed, _his bloody bed_ , with a fury in his eyes that couldn’t be accounted, not even if someone tried to. There he was, risking his own neck because he felt deep down that he owed his life to her. But little did he know that she would consider him the monster, rather than her savior.

 

_How could she?_

He picked her forcefully by her upper arm, leaning over against her, his face really close from her own. He looked like he wanted to hurt her, for saying the things she had said. For making him feel again like the coward, the weak, the fool he knew he was. If Luna had proved anything was that there was no redemption for him. He was doomed to live with his failure for the rest of his life.

 

His hands shook her by her arm, his nose nearly touching her as he looked at her. Luna had turned visibly scared by the time he clearly had understood what she meant and had leaned over her. Her gray eyes were wide as she quivered under his touch. “You bloody little ungrateful _loony_!” He said, choosing the last word knowing it would hurt her. Knowing it was how bullies called her back in Hogwarts. He gave her arm a shake by every word he pronounced. “You want me to be your fairytale monster? Great!”

 

It happened so quickly Snape had barely time to see it coming. Her wide eyes began to water, and before he could say anything else she began to cry. And sob. So hard her whole body shook. Her hands found his chest and she pushed him hard, as it could make him let go of her arm. And it did, not because she had the strength to, but because he didn’t expect her to get physical.

 

The professor released her arm, taking the two small vials by her side on the bed, and looking at them with his bare hands. His eyes found Luna, still sobbing sitting on the bed, and he gave her a sad laugh. “We had our roles chosen from the day we stepped in Hogwarts for the first time right?” His eyes scanned again the two vials on his hand and he shook his head. “You are fated to be the blonde stupid girl no one knows why landed on Ravenclaw. And I am fated to be the monster.”

 

And with that, he threw the vials on the floor, stepping on them before he left the room, a mix of blue and yellow liquids and broken glass on the floor.

 

***

 

Molly looked at Fleur as she finished covering an apple pie with a layer of dough. The blonde woman sang quietly a French song no one else seemed to know. Molly was sitting on the kitchen table, drawing abstract figures on the wooden surface, her expression completely lost.

 

“Molly, we all know she is at risk. But we wouldn’t have a second chance if it wasn’t for _her_.” The blonde woman turned her body back to the kitchen table, having placed the pie inside the oven.

 

“He doesn’t want to know. There is too much death on his shoulders to take such a risk.” Molly sighed softly, raising her eyes. “Unless you can convince Harry to change his mind, Narcissa is on her own.” 

 


	4. Reconnaissance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Reconnaissance** : _the process of obtaining information about enemy forces or positions._

Snape had the ultimate respect for potions and their process of manufacture. He knew the countless hours some took to be properly prepared, and the years of knowledge necessary to produce a potion so well boiled not even a professor could point mistakes. And the Snape everyone knew would never commit such a sacrilege of destroying a potion after the trouble of making it. But he wasn’t that Snape, right? That Snape was an illusion created by his mind to make him believe he could have redemption. That was the only explanation for why he did that. He was such a monster he had no respect anymore for his own creations, the only sacred and pure things he had left.

 

It had nothing to do with the fact he also wanted to hurt Luna for implying he would rape her, _obviously_.

 

And that was why he didn’t return that day to sleep in the room he now shared with the blonde girl. He went to a nasty pub not far from the Manor and drank two or three glasses of firewhiskey to begin the night. By the time the sun was already high in the sky, he was resting his head and his closed eyes against the pub’s balcony.

 

He took his time then. He had lunch at a local restaurant, and bought a few supplies he needed, before returning to the Manor with the sensation he should never step there again. When he was about to open his room’s door, holding the doorknob between his fingers, he felt a small touch on his shoulder.

 

“Professor, the Dark Lord requested a new dinner…” The voice said, and Snape immediately knew it was Draco. His shaky low voice and his shivering touch on his shoulder denounced him. Draco delivered him a parchment with 8 o'clock written in a neat handwriting and walked back to the staircase. Snape took the paper between his hands, finally opening the door and looking inside.

 

For a whole minute, he stood by the door frame, observing her figure. She was sleeping, soundly sleeping. She was laying on the mattress, her feet still touching the floor, as if she had kept waiting for so long for his return she simply fell asleep. If it weren’t for her badly positioned legs, she would have been completely hidden by the bed, and that was exactly the effect he had hoped for when he positioned the mattress behind it, right next to the bathroom. To keep her as far from the door as he could. At the time, not because he wanted to guarantee her imprisonment, but rather because he was afraid of her being susceptible to what could enter the room.

 

How stupid he was. He wanted to protect someone so badly he failed to notice that she was already sharing the room with one of the monsters.

 

He didn’t know if it was the multiple shots of firewhiskey or his conscience, but he sat slowly on the bed, looking at her sleeping figure as he sighed. Once, he had imposed on himself the duty of protecting Lily. He thought it was his job to protect her, even from James. And then she married him, and even though no one would blame him for not wanting to protect her anymore, he kept considering it his job. Because she could be dead now, but she was still his best friend.

 

A few years later, even if everyone, even Dumbledore, considered it very weird, he had taken the job of protecting Harry. Not because he liked him, the bloody boy was a mess and James all over again. Cocky, arrogant, the boy who lived. But he still had Lily’s eyes, and if he couldn’t protect her… at least… at least he should try and protect Harry, right? He was the last thing Lily had left back. And her eyes… the bloody boy and her eyes, how could he not try it? He didn’t treat him well, and he didn’t regret it. But he tried as much as he could to be _there_. As if it wasn’t enough, Narcissa came with her motherly preoccupations, and there he was, tied to protecting Draco too.

 

And in the end, from the three protégée he had taken under his wings, two of them were dead and one was mostly a puppet now.

 

Snape took a deep breath, hiding his face in his hands for a moment before he rose his head again and looked at Luna. Why the hell he was trying again? He would fail. He knew he would fail once more. Then he would grow stupidly depressed. Once again. Why couldn’t he learn with his mistakes?

 

_Because he couldn’t handle another person that cared for him dying._

Luna probably hated him now. He was an idiot. Such an idiot. She was barely eighteen; she had been tortured and given as if she was a mere thing to be passed around. Obviously, she feared he would rape her. Why wouldn’t he? She never knew he was trying to be good. She never knew the battle that was going on inside of him, and the fact he always tried to choose the good side, even when his choice leads to destruction. She couldn’t know. She met the monster, the man who was mean to her during classes since she was a small child; the man who took her for a slave as a gift; the man who shattered the only thing that could make her feel less pain.

 

Even if he tried really hard to be good, around Luna, he had only been bad.

 

***

 

Luna opened her eyes, moaning softly as she still felt her head aching from crying. She brushed her hair out of her face and looked around. There was something different. She sat on her mattress, sighing softly as she felt the comfortable and warm blanket over her body.

 

 _A blanket_.

 

It was white, and soft and warm and so delicate over her skin. She brushed her fingers softly against the fabric of it, smiling a little. It felt good. Even if the mattress itself still wasn’t covered with anything, Luna looked around and spotted a pillow, with a white matching case, just where her head had been. She looked down at it, her fingers massaging her forehead lightly as she tried to think about it. She was waiting for _him_. Because they had fought. And he didn’t come back, and she fell asleep, but… none of these things were there before.

 

Luna got on her knees, just the top of her head observing the room from the other side of Snape’s bed. He wasn’t there. But there was something new on the desk near the door. Something that wasn’t there the night before either.

 

The girl got up from the mattress, the blanket slipping by her body, covered only in his white shirt. She took apprehensive steps until she reached the desk and looked at the small silver tray on top of it. It had a glass of juice, a plate full of eggs and ham, and the exactly two vials from the night before. One blue and the other yellow. There was a small parchment under the plate, that she took on her hands to read.

 

_I am sorry._

_S._

***

 

He only came back after midnight, carrying another small tray with him. He opened the door, a cold breeze of winter entering the room, as his hands rushed to close it before the temperature inside decreased too much. He didn’t look around the room because he feared what he would see in her eyes. He simply settled the tray over the desk, the same way he had done in the afternoon, just by the other one, which was empty now. The sight made him sigh softly in relief. At least she had eaten. He was worried she might not accept his excuses and starve herself to prove her point.

 

When he finally rose his head from the desk and looked around, he could just see the top of her head and her gray eyes, staring at him from the other side of his bed. She didn’t look mad, in fact, she looked rather curious. In a moment of clarity, he flicked his eyes back to the previous tray and found the two vials with the healing potions empty.

 

After what seemed like an eternity where she kept observing him and he kept looking at the floor, he finally spoke in a calm but low voice. “I brought you dinner. I am sorry it wasn’t sooner, but I was called to a meeting. And… I don’t allow elves to enter my room, so…”

 

Luna took also an eternity to shake her head softly, her blonde hair falling around her shoulders as she looked at her professor. He really seemed sorry. And tired. Nearly exhausted actually. Obviously, he had not slept the night before, but something else also caused it. She didn’t want to sound smug, but she was starting to believe he never looked good after meeting with Voldemort.

 

“Thanks… for the breakfast. It was really good.” She said in a shaky tone, biting her lips softly as she rose her eyes to look into Snape’s. “And the potion… it indeed made me feel better. I don’t… I don’t even have the bruises anymore, just some scars on my back….” She said as if it was just a detail, not that much important.

 

“You should eat already.” He said, picking the tray on his hands and walking to her hidden mattress. He leaned and placed it down on her thighs, not looking into her eyes before leaning back up. “I need… a bath.” He said, almost to himself, before he turned back around and followed to the bathroom.

 

A few slices of meat, mashed potatoes, and carrots. And again the silver neat tray. And another glass of orange juice. Luna was beginning to think this wasn’t supposed to be slave’s food, but rather his own dinner. She began to eat it, feeling a little bit weird by their interaction. He didn’t look the kind of person that would apologize easily, so she had spent the whole day trying to figure it out why he had done it.

 

After a while, the bathroom’s door was finally opened. Snape closed the door with a loud noise and walked to his drawer. He was wearing a pair of blue sweatpants, a white cotton shirt and his long hair were wet. He placed the cloak he was wearing before on the top of the drawer, supposedly to wear on the next day and turned around to face Luna.

 

She was observing the whole thing with wide eyes. It was so new to watch her Professor wearing normal clothes. Wearing… pajamas. She tried to contain a laugh but in the end, she couldn’t. There she was, sleepy, well-fed and comfortable under her white blanket, and truly laughing for the first time since the war had begun.

 

Snape looked like he wanted to scowl because of her reaction, not really happy for having someone laughing at his clothes. But as soon as she could, Luna was shaking her head and looking at him apologetic. “I am sorry, Professor, it’s not you… I simply never thought I would see you… wearing pajamas…” She said between sighs, starting to laugh again.

 

His expression softened a bit, as he passed his hands by his hair and looked at her. “Just go to sleep. Did you eat everything?” He looked at the empty tray on the desk, just by the breakfast one, and sighed. “Great. Now, your curfew is up.” He said, taking a book from his nightstand and sitting on his bed. The blonde girl laid on her back, curling up softly and falling asleep quickly.

 

He didn’t apologize out loud. But she was starting to think he wasn’t that bad.


	5. Juggernaut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Juggernaut:** _An overwhelming, advancing force that crushes or seems to crush everything in its path._

Six months had passed and Luna was finally beginning to experience hope again.

 

She ate two great meals every day, brought by Snape himself as much punctual as he could be. The silver tray was always present, and she had gotten to the solid conclusion he was sharing half of his meals with her. She would never even begin to think what they fed the slaves there, but she could guess that it was something similar to what they had fed her the week she was being tortured: a small bowl of soup, before sleeping, which tasted mostly of water and old carrots.

 

So this was one of the things she was grateful for: the fact he cared enough to do not give her anything the Death Eaters thought it was for her _kind_.

 

Their routine was very clear by now. Once a week he would have a dinner with Voldemort, but daily he would watch her have breakfast while reading a newspaper, go out during the whole afternoon, and come back during the night to feed her dinner while reading one of his potion books. She thought he could imagine, but as soon as he left for one of his afternoon trips, she jumped to his much more comfortable bed and read his books or the old newspaper from the night before. And even if outside his room the whole world was messy and scary, inside she truly felt safe and protected for the first time since the end of the war.

 

Snape was still rude, and sarcastic, but even she could notice how he had grown used to her presence and developed some sort of effort to avoid hurting her feelings. On the other hand, she tried to thank this by being as much quiet and invisible as she could, trying to never disturb him.

 

In one particular night, she fell asleep on his bed before he came back – which was indeed in the middle of the night – holding one of his books against her chest. The next morning, she woke up covered by his luxurious blanket and her bed completely messy, making clear he didn’t wake her up and simply slept on her mattress. A mattress that was also different now. It was covered with a blanket decorated with a cute pattern of flowers, two soft pillows, her white blanket and another warmer cover. She also had now a small part of his closet, five dresses, and a warm coat. It was a simple and very different from what she had before, but she liked it. She was thankful for it.

 

Life was better than she had imagined trapped inside that box in the Malfoy Manor’s living room just some weeks ago.

 

***

 

But life for Avery wasn’t as great as he had planned. Even if he had more girls at his disposal than any other Death Eater (three small petite adorable hurt and bleeding little girls), he couldn’t take the blonde girl from his mind. And how Snape had taken her from him. He was the one that captured her. He had _rights_. That was lost merely because Snape had to stay alive because of that little wench and come back from the dead as the most trustful follower.

 

No, things wouldn’t be this _easy_ for him.

 

He could claim he had manners. He suggested, more than once, that Snape could do the other Death Eaters the favor of sharing his darling gift. One of those times, during their weekly dinner, even Voldemort had wondered why Snape was so overprotective about that small blonde girl, to what he barely answered ‘I like them exclusively’, and the subject was abandoned over a few laughs about Snape being too selective. And even if he had this title of a most trustful follower, Avery was still the most proactive one, and he deserved to have what he desired. Because in their new world, the strongest could take what they wanted without thinking twice.

 

So he waited. Patiently, until Snape locked his door behind his back and left to do Merlin’s know what in the city. Avery gave it thirty minutes just to make sure he wouldn’t come back for something forgotten, and then walked to the door. Snape’s door. The wood was white but old and kind of dirty. They didn’t pay much attention to cleaning on Death Eaters’ floor, while Voldemort premises were impeccable. The doorknob was dirt golden, and Avery’s hand closed around it, while he grinned.

 

He was _dying_ to taste her.

 

***

 

Snape came back barely forty minutes after leaving. He just wanted to buy some wrapping paper or some sort of nice box. The intention was to make the gift he was about to give Luna more presentable. In the end, he found a small box with blue-ish mermaids all over it, and he considered it was an appropriate choice. His hands rubbed against the doorknob to his room, a small smile on his face as he tried to think about her reaction.

 

He had bought a collection of new things for her. He knew they didn’t make up for being locked in his room for months, but he considered they helped to relieve it. He thought they could make the pain of being a slave easier, even if he didn’t actually touched her or made her do anything. Because even if he wasn’t asking for things, the title had its own weight. And he was trying his best to prove to her he didn’t think about her this way. As he smiled at the door, the small box on his left hand, he heard a small noise coming from inside. His body tensed up as he heard the same noise again. It sounded a bit like a sob, which made him storm into the room without considering the danger he was getting himself into.

 

And the image was disgusting.

 

Avery was on top of Luna, on Snape’s bed, his nearly naked body between her pale legs as she cried and asked him to stop. No, she was asking ‘ _please stop_ ’. As if being polite would help her case. The soft green dress she was wearing was ripped over her shoulder, making her left breast visible, the pink-ish nipples gripped tightly by Avery’s right hand. Her cotton white panties were hanging by one of her knees, and her hands were everywhere, trying to push him away from her. And then the pleads stopped. Her eyes found Snape’s and they began to water as she extended one of her arms in his direction, opening and closing her hand to him. Asking him to help her.

 

_Him._

Snape knew very well he was a monster. And it didn’t matter how many times he had tried to be the hero, it was just not meant for him. But Luna was his exception. Just once before he had thought someone could see more inside him that a monster, but this person was dead now. Long dead. And the small blonde girl that he had learned to love didn’t deserve him to keep accepting his fate. He could be a monster. But not to her.

 

“Avery!” Snape said with an angry voice, marching into the room and pulling the other Death Eater by his half unbuttoned shirt. For the first time in a long time he wanted to punch someone in the face other than to cast a curse. Seeing blood coming from a curse wasn’t enough, he wanted to make Avery bleed with his bare hands. “What do you think you are doing invading my room and treating her like this? As if… As if she belongs to _you_.” The other Death Eater couldn’t contain a laugh, turning around to face Snape as he closed the zipper of his pants. His cocky smile was irritating, and the way he looked at Snape as if he wasn’t doing anything wrong made the other man even angrier. “I was just tasting your pretty thing. Mommy didn’t teach you to share your toys, Severus?”

 

“She isn’t a toy.” Snape pronounced between his teeth, his breathing irregular as he considered how quickly he could take his wand from his pocket. But as soon as the words left his mouth, Avery was already walking to the door. “I wouldn’t attack me if I were you. You know, Severus, the Dark Lord might think you are developing feelings over your pretty thing since you get so angry about others using her. She might be yours, but she still is a slave. You don’t get to play house with her.” He finished, pointing the flowery mattress before closing the door behind his back.

 

Luna was still laying on the bed, a few tears rolling by her cheeks, while others were already drying on her skin. As the other man left, her crying became louder, and she rolled to her side, hugging herself. She knew everything was too good to be true. She knew darkness were going to find their small room and take it over, as it had done with the rest of the world. She felt Snape carefully getting closer to the bed, and hovering over her, but not sitting down.

 

“I am sorry. Luna did he… Did he hurt you?” His voice was shaky, like she had never heard before, not even the night she had saved him. She moved her head, indicating that no, he hadn’t had the time to begin it, but her sobs also made clear it was enough to hurt her soul. His hands found her blanket, that had always made her feel safe, and placed it on top of her, to cover her body from his view. “You want me to leave? I can leave you alone. I can stay outside by the door, no one will ever touch you again, Luna. I promise you. Never again.” He whispered gently, before sighing and turning his back on the bed. If it felt awful to feel like he didn’t have the power to protect her from all of this, he could never imagine how she was feeling.

 

“No.” She whispered, moving on the bed to look at him. “Please.” She said, in a tiny voice that could barely be heard. “I need you here.”

 

***

 

Narcissa looked nervously at her door, sighing as she tried to open the letter on her hands with shaky hands. By the handwriting, she knew it was Snape’s, but she couldn’t figure out why he would risk it writing for her right now.

 

_N.,_

_I know you are planning something, and that the objective is to take Draco out of the mansion. I need you to take Luna with you. I can’t protect her anymore, Avery is impatient and tried to take her from me today. You know I hate asking for help, but I need you to protect her._

_S._


	6. Bedroll

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Bedroll:** _blanket or other bedding rolled up and carried over the shoulder by a soldier._

He didn’t have the courage to sleep. After she had asked him to stay, he sat on her bed, looking down at her as she looked back at him. They kept like this for minutes that felt like hours, until she said she wanted to take a bath. He got everything ready, while she wrapped herself in her fluffy blanket. Her dress destiny couldn’t be anything other than the trash, along with her panties. When she came back, he was still sitting on the edge of the bed, as if waiting for her to tell him what to do. She decided she needed to sleep.

 

On that day, she preferred her mattress. When he thought she was already sleeping, he changed the sheets and pillowcases, throwing everything in the trash, visibly angry. She could also hear him cry. Luna never thought she would hear Snape cry or get anything other than extremely calm, as he always were during her childhood. He kept pacing around all night long, thinking about ways to do something to protect her, long after she had already gone sleep.

 

He didn’t leave the room for the next three days. Not even for a second. He told a house elf he was feeling ill and ordered his meals to be sent to his room. And then Luna had proven, right before her eyes, he had been sharing half his meals with her. She had the breakfast and the dinner, while he had the lunch and the snack before bed. He tried to show her different books she hadn’t read yet, and in that night she asked him if he would be mad if she slept on his bed.

 

The fourth day began with Snape quickly taking the white blanket over her mattress, and placing it over his bed. He took two of her dresses, the book she was reading, and two vials with healing potions in case she got hurt. He knotted it with force, looking at her still sleeping on his bed. He had no time to waste: people would begin to think his disappearance was weird, and Narcissa had sent a message saying they were ready to go.

 

_You need to protect her._

 

She was so small. So fragile. No, she _looked_ fragile. She was one of the strongest women he had ever met. But she couldn’t get out of this situation alone. He was just there to help her out in the only way she couldn’t help herself. Snape sobbed a bit, trying to clean the tears that kept falling from his face. _Compose yourself, you stupid_. He got closer to her, sleeping so peacefully over his pillow, hugged with another one. He would lie if he didn’t admit even to himself that it hurt to let her go. Because it felt nice to have someone to go back to. Some reason why he needed to stay alive. Because he loved to be welcomed by her smile, and he loved how his bed looked more comfortable when she was laying there.

 

He sat down by her side, his fingers tracing small delicate caresses over her hair. He cared for the Potter boy, and he cared for Draco. But he didn’t… care like this for someone since Lily. She was everything he thought all day long, and everything he did was related to her. Even when he was mad, it was caused either by her or because someone had said something about her.

 

He tried to lie to himself about what it meant.

 

_But he knew._

 

It was just difficult for him to assume it to himself. He had thought about it when he saw Avery doing that horrible thing to her, but he tried to not think about it again. He didn’t know if it was proper for him to be… in love with his own student. No, it wasn’t. It was the least proper thing he had done, and he indeed did a lot of them.

 

But in that moment, with her hair under his fingertips, and her sleeping figure against his pillow, he knew it was the truth.

 

“Luna, come on.” He said softly, shaking her shoulder a bit, as lovingly as he could, as he leaned closer to her face. “I will take you out of here. But you need to wake up.” He said softly, waiting for her to open her beautiful eyes and stare at him. When she did, her expression was confused. She looked at the window, and it was still dark outside, and then she turned her head back at Snape.

 

“Why do we need to wake up so early?” She asked in her purred voice, the tone she only used when she was still sleepy. He sighed softly, stroking her hair in his new-found lovingly manner. “I will take you out. To what remains of your friends. To be free. Don’t you want that? To be free?”

 

Her eyes began to shine at the comprehension of the word “free”. She looked so much alive and excited, that it made him happy. Then, a little bit sad. Because she was happy that she would go away. “Yes, please… please, Professor…” She said in an excited tone, sitting straight on the bed. He picked the bedroll with her things inside and offered his hand to her. “Come.”

 

Snape took her, holding her hands all the way to the front door. Most Death Eaters were out because a celebration was happening. One more celebration about the victory over Harry Potter. They were having a reunion at another Manor, offered by one of Voldemort followers. So the Malfoy Manor was pretty empty, other than one or two Death Eaters making rounds. Snape took Luna and her belongings to the front door, where Narcissa was already waiting with Draco and Hermione, looking at their sides completely nervous.

 

“What took you so long?” Asked Narcissa with a high pitched voice, looking at Snape angrily. Luna looked at Hermione worried, as if analyzing her friend. But curiously… she didn’t seem hurt. She was wearing jeans, a hoodie, and sneakers. For her actual size. Bought for her. Like the dresses Snape had bought that fit her perfectly. Hermione’s hair was in a ponytail and she smiled at Luna as if relieved.

 

So… Was Draco treating her well?

 

“Narcissa… I needed to pack a few things for her and make sure she was well-rested. You know… you know what happened.” He said in a low tone so the other three couldn’t hear them.

 

Luna sighed, still holding Snape’s hands while her other played with the edge of his blue shirt she was wearing. He had made her sleep in oversized sweatpants since Avery’s… situation. As if more layers of clothing could protect her. And even if Luna really liked Hermione’s new pink hoodie, it felt weirdly protective to be wearing Snape’s clothes once again.

 

“Just… let’s just go.” The older woman said quickly, opening the main door. Snape looked down at Luna, swallowing hard as he tried to give her a small smile. “I hope… everything goes well.” He said quickly, nearly blurting it out nervously. He was trying to stay calm, but at the sight of her wet eyes and her pout lips, he felt like he was about to lose control over his blasé expression. “Just go. You don’t need to stay anymore. Go.” He kept repeating, but she kept holding his hand.

 

“I-I…” _Just say it_ , she thought. Just thank him for risking his life to protect yours. For turning good even after the war was won. Tell him you like him, that you learned to like him so much it hurts to just leave him behind. _Tell him_. “Goodbye…” She said instead, letting go of his hand and running to catch up with Narcissa, who was already nearly the front gate.

 

***

 

Snape was sitting on the first seat near the edge of the dining table. He kept looking down at his plate as he ate, waiting for Voldemort to pronounce his punishment. He had lied when they were all back, saying he had grown tired of having drinks alone in his room, and decided to go to a pub, forgetting his door unlocked. He played the drunk fool and admitted to going outside when it was his duty to guard the Manor.

 

He just didn’t know why Voldemort hadn’t killed him yet.

 

Avery had organized a searching party to go after Luna. And Snape was hoping Narcissa had enough time to hide before they began to search. At least until now, they only thought Luna had escaped. It would give Narcissa advantage. “You really need to learn how to control your own emotions, Severus. You have a little fuck toy to work all this anger inside of you…” Voldemort finally began, intertwining his fingers as he looked at Snape’s face. “… and even better, you don’t have to be afraid of damaging her, because they are all disposable…” His firm and the loving tone were just a tool to make Snape less frightened. Because he liked to be the reason why someone was scared, and not only to feed this fear. So he usually began every punishment with that fake lovingly and comprehensive tone, before revealing his real feelings on the matter.

 

But before he could actually continue, Avery opened the dining room’s doors with a loud noise, his angry expression mixed with pleasure. He walked to Voldemort’s seat, on the edge of the table, and with satisfaction leaned against his ear and began to talk. Snape couldn’t hear a single word, but he knew that something was terribly wrong.

 

“Oh great…” Voldemort finally said when he was done. But it wasn’t a glad ‘Oh great’, it sounded more sarcastic and vicious. “You are lucky you are not the only one to blame, Severus…” He said with a smile. “Arrange a new searching party. For Narcissa, her son and his slave. I don’t want them meeting with the rebels.” Avery whispered something else to Voldemort and he rolled his eyes. “No, you can’t have her, you fool. You already have three girls, pull yourself together.” He said angry, which made Avery lean back and look mad at Snape.

 

Another Death Eater came inside the room, bringing Luna by her arm roughly. Snape looked at her swallowing hard, as he tried not to look sad. Her blonde hair was dirty again, her blue shirt and sweatpants full of rips, making clear she had fought them. The girl looked at him with her sad gray wet eyes, and he knew she was trying to apologize for not being faster.

 

If only she knew he didn’t blame her for anything.

 

“Take it off. When these little things will learn they can’t dress like people?” Voldemort said, looking over at Snape. “She is yours. I am a man of my word, and I don’t take it back. But if you let her slip through your fingers again, I won’t be merciful. And you still will have your punishment.” He said cruelly.

 

Avery laughed as he began to fight with Luna to take her clothes off. The girl bit his arm and tried to pull him away, but obviously, he was too strong. And he didn’t even care enough to use his wand. He liked the power game, and he wouldn’t let an opportunity go easily. His hands roughly tore the buttons of her shirt, making them pop and fly everywhere. The blonde girl cried and kicked and sobbed, but nothing seemed to have any result over Avery. His hands were everywhere. When he finally managed to rip her pants apart and leave her just on her panties, trying to cover her breasts with her hands, he smiled proudly.

 

Snape tried not to look at the whole thing, knowing that he couldn’t stop it, but neither do something about it because it would only result in Luna dead. So he alternated at watching him undress her roughly and flick his eyes down to the floor. He was so weak. _So weak_. Until he saw her finally just on her panties, breathing hard and trying to cover herself as she looked at him. With those wet eyes he hated seeing.

 

He hoped they didn’t notice how she had not even a single bruise and was a few pounds heavier.

 

“Crucio,” Voldemort said finally, after what seemed an eternity of Snape and Luna staring at each other. He did it holding his wand while eating a small piece of meat, meaning Luna wasn’t worthy of having his entire attention to get punished. He continued to eat his dinner, holding his wand with his other hand, without paying much attention to the girl who was now flouncing on the floor.

 

Snape closed his eyes for a few seconds, not managing to hear her screams and pleads. It didn’t take more than a minute, but it felt like forever. Soon Voldemort was growing bored and let go of his wand, continuing to eat as if nothing had happened. Luna sobbed against the floor, her cheeks marked with tears that kept streaming down her face. Snape looked around the table and every one of the Death Eaters presents began to look down at her nearly fully naked body and talk to each other. He needed to do something.

 

“My Lord… if you… if you allow me, I can carry the punishments. After all, I will get punished myself because of her. And she… she is still my responsibility. So… could I take her… to my room?” He tried to speak in his best blasé tone, hoping he could convince Voldemort to let her go.

 

But it wouldn’t be that easy.

 

“The dinner isn’t finished yet, Severus. Eat your food like a good boy.”

 

***

 

It took two hours of dinner and torture for Voldemort to grow bored enough to finish the punishment of Luna. Avery tried, a couple of times, to be granted permission to rape her, but Snape kept repeating at least one form of punishment needed to be left for him. So they used every and each one of the curses they could imagine, to inflict her pain. She blacked out a couple of times, but at some point, she stopped asking for them to stop. She would just scream. Then, not even this. She ended up the night just crying, softly and low, as if she didn’t have enough energy to even mourn her own pain.

 

They left one by one, while Luna was laying on the floor. When Avery finally closed the door and there was just the two of them, Snape rushed to her side, his eyes wet as finally, tears rolled down his cheek. “Luna, talk to me… Luna…” He kept repeating, holding her face in his hands delicately as if one more touch could kill her. “I am so sorry… I am so sorry, it was all my fault. I should have planned your escape better… I thought… I thought if I didn’t know where you were going…” _They wouldn’t extract it from me later_.

 

He took off his cloak, covering her softly as he looked at her face. She opened her eyes a little bit, sighing tired as he picked her up in his arms, completely covered in the black cloak. He held her against his body, as she laid her head on his shoulders. The walk to his room wasn’t long, but it felt like it. He just wished he could run to his room and protect her from everything else.

 

 _Everyone_ else.

 

He would take hours to brew all the potions that would ease her pain. He tried to concentrate on the few ones he could have already, but it was so difficult to think about what he had inside his cabinet. When he finally reached his room, he opened the door and closed it behind them, feeling her cuddling more against his chest.

 

It made him want to cry even harder.


	7. Reinforcements

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Reinforcements** : _Troops sent to strengthen a fighting force._

When he had got inside the room, holding her dearly against his chest, he placed her down on his bed, sitting by her side for a minute to look at her. Luna kept her eyes closed, and as soon as her body touched the soft bed, she curled into a small ball, her arms around her legs as she slowly stopped to cry. He rose from the bed, going to his cabinet to look for potions he could immediately use, to which he found five. He gave them to her, with a glass of water, and started to plan which potions he needed to brew to make her feel better.

 

Twenty different and hard to brew vials.

 

That was what it took to make Luna a little bit more like herself. The enormous scars she had on her back when she arrived at the Manor were now the company to a new one just over her belly button. Her behave was slightly different than before the failed escape: she was more silent now, and she didn’t even dare to look Snape into his eyes. And he didn’t blame her, he had given her hope, and all she got, in the end, was a brutal beating that could affect her sanity for the rest of her life.

 

He felt guilty, obviously redundant to say. And deep inside he felt thankful she couldn’t look into his eyes because he didn’t want to do that either. He had failed once again with someone he had tried to protect. Once _again_. What was his worth after all? Besides brewing difficult and long potions, in the end, he had no value. Her pain, the indescribable pain she probably was feeling now, it was undoubtful his fault. Why he existed? Why did he keep living if it was a sequence of mistakes and regrets and deaths?

 

At some point of the next night, that he also spent sitting by her side on the bed, she reached for his hand, holding it as she finally opened her eyes. Luna tried to give him a soft smile that looked kind of weird, but Snape understood the meaning. Her expression then suddenly switched to upset, her eyebrows contracting as she spoke: “I am sorry I wasn’t fast enough.”

 

Snape rose an eyebrow, looking down at her watery blue eyes, completely confused. Was she apologizing for not being able to run fast enough? For being caught? As soon as he understood her words he began to shake his head, his hair falling against his cheeks repeatedly. “You don’t have to apologize, Luna. It was my fault. I didn’t plan it well enough. I put you under risk and trusted you to someone else.”

 

Luna held his hand more firmly, pulling it against her chest, right over her heart. “No, you gave me a chance. Even if I got caught, you tried to save me, _Severus_.” However, just as the words left her lips, she moved her eyes over to the white blanket over his bed. Luna had never called him by his first name, always Professor or even Snape. And even if they were living together for six months now, he had never given her this right, even if he called her by her first name. It seemed just wrong like Luna didn’t respect him enough.

 

As if he was never her professor at _all._

 

The thought made her shiver a bit. Because being her former professor was the only thing keeping her from unlocking the feelings. Feelings that were now nearly spilling over from the deep place she had pushed them into his mind. Feelings that for six months now she had considered the result of Stockholm Syndrome, or perhaps being locked up for so long, or even because he was the first person to take care of her for so long.

 

Her classmates always made fun of her. Since the minute she had gotten into Hogwarts. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville were the only ones that had respect for her, because for the rest… No one looked too excited to even chat with her. Or understand why she liked to talk about different things. Luna had learned to ignore it, go on with her education and her interests. Only being fully accepted at home. Only being cared at home. Only being defenseless at home.

 

She would never have imagined that would find protection and comfort while being a slave.

 

Snape looked a bit surprised, obviously. If it were six months ago, he would have considered it something deeply disrespectful. But now, her tone, her voice, her expression while calling him by his first name just made him feel warm. Even loved. He hadn’t give someone intimacy enough to call him like this for years. The few ones that did were completely against his will at the beginning, he simply got to get used to it. However, something on their relationship made him feel good about her calling him like this. Because of as much as he wanted to deny it, he had given her intimacy enough to do so.

 

He lowered his head, his hair falling around her face as he smiled. “You can call me like this, just remember to avoid it while around other people.” He whispered like it was their secret, and Luna smiled. Laughed lightly looking into his black eyes. “Okay, _Severus_.” He gave her a small smile and replied. “Okay, _Luna_.”

 

***

 

It took less than a month for her to fully recover with Snape’s potions. And even if he trusted his knowledge, he was indeed surprised by how fast it was. By the end of it, she was already mostly back to her playful imaginative personality. Mostly because there were days she comprehensively began to cry thinking about being tortured or had long nightmares about it.

 

During one of those nights, she began to cry while sleeping, repeating “No, no!” softly under her breath and moving under her blanket. Snape tried to wake her up by shaking her arm carefully, but it was to no use. So he sat down on her mattress and whispered in her ear for her to wake up while caressing her hair. It took a few seconds but when Luna finally opened her watery eyes, she sighed in relief by seeing his face. “You are alright. Sleeping on your flowery mattress under your new pink blanket.” He whispered, continuing to caress her hair as she slowly closed her eyes again.

 

But when he motioned to raise to go back to his bed, she opened her eyes quickly, looking at him while pouting. “No, Severus, I need you here.” She whispered as if the Death Eaters on the other rooms could be able to hear them. “Please stay with me.” She completed, pulling him by his arm. Snape chewed on his lips, sighing hard as he considered her pleads. His moral, the good and the bad inside of him keeping fighting over her request. If it was proper or not. And while every time the good side won, telling him she was twenty years younger and his former student, this time it didn’t. He caught himself laying by her side on the mattress, looking into her eyes as she smiled at him. He couldn’t stop himself. Her hand on his arm lost pressure as she slowly began to get closer to him, their eyes connected. She hid her face on his chest, his soft pajamas caressing her nose, as her arms wrapped around his torso.

 

Snape didn’t know what to do. Should he hug her back? Caress her? What did that mean? The only time they had got this close was while he was caring her back to his room, but she was hurt and nearly passed out, so he didn’t think too much about the contact. It was automatic and necessary, but now… she was _choosing_ to hug him. She was choosing to sleep by his side. He never thought someone would choose such a thing: he had dreamt of Lily doing this, but an actual situation where this happened? He would never ever in his entire life think a woman would choose it.

 

Would choose _him_.

 

“I like your smell…” Luna whispered, visibly sleepy as she rubbed her nose against his shirt. “I like _you_.” She completed, before whispering: “Good night, Severus.” And closed her eyes. He kept in shock, thinking that he was the one probably sleeping and dreaming, while her breath became slowly regular and she visibly felt asleep.

 

_I like you._

 

A voice inside of him was screaming as her words kept repeating in his mind. And before he realized, his arms moved to hug her, trying to maintain her against him for as much as he could. Because of the dreamy sensation, the realization of his desire, was enough to make him want this for the rest of his life.

 

***

 

For the first time since her escape, Luna didn’t wake up frightened. It was also one of the few times Snape was still sleeping. By her side. Holding her against him. The realization of the previous night made her heart beat faster. Obviously, she was very aware of her actions, but as she woke up, the idea it was all just a dream crossed her mind. Because it seemed such an unusual scene to have him by her side. Because he never held her if she weren’t hurt. Never held her so lovingly. He was notoriously a man that didn’t show much affection. And it was weird to feel like she belonged there. But she did.

 

Luna rose her head, one of her arms carefully moving to stroke his face dearly. His sharp nose, his thin cheeks, the prominent jaw. And the realization that she loved him, that she loved him deeply and very much, hit her like a full-speed train. She loved him despite his controversial history, his weird hair, his sarcastic tone, his evil side. She loved him. He was the first man she had ever loved, and as much as she couldn’t point how she got to that conclusion since that feeling was new, it was just there. She just knew it.

 

She was in love with the man that owned her. And that didn’t feel slightly wrong.

 

Her caressing slowly made Snape open his eyes, looking at her sleepy and confused. He was so used to wake up before her, it was strange to see her caressing him, her eyes fully open. His hands motioned to let go of her back and waist, but her profound stare into his eyes made him kept quiet. Why was she staring at him so intensely? Was she starting to regret asking him to sleep by her side? Regret hugging him? Allowing him to touch her?

 

And then she did the only thing he wasn’t prepared to.

 

She got even closer, her nose touching his, her eyes never leaving his eyes. She licked her lips softly, her breathing completely irregular, sometimes leaving her lips as if she had run a marathon. Her arms moved to wrap themselves around his neck, and, involuntarily, his own hands grasped her more tightly on her waist. “Do you trust me?” She asked to him, her mouth nearly touching his own. “I do.” He simply stated, a universal truth inside himself.

 

“So kiss me.” She asked, her voice as low as it could get, her eyes scanning his expression to read his reaction. He looked quite uncomfortable, his eyes moving for the first time to his side. “I can’t, Luna.” He whispered back, his fingers holding her so firmly his knuckles turned white. “But you want?” She wondered next, rubbing her nose against his. “Yes.” He would have stated ‘ _obviously’_ if it didn’t make him run away in shame.

 

“For everyone else, you own me. But you never acted like you did. But now I want to feel what is like to be _yours_.” She said, as faster as she could, her pale face turning cherry red at her own words. “I don’t want to leave you again, Severus. I don’t want to escape. Not if I am leaving you behind.” It felt like the second she opened her mouth, she couldn’t stop saying everything she felt to him. The words ‘ _I love you’_ kept appearing on her mind, but she tried to brush them off. If he was as intelligent as she thought, he would understand her words utterly meant it.

 

He groaned, looking at her intensely as she finished. A small part of his mind kept repeating for him to tell her he loved her. Because if she wanted to feel like she was _his_ , he couldn’t offer her a better proof. He wanted to promise her they would escape together. Confess her he was trying, really hard, to be good, all those years. He wanted to apologize for being an awful professor, for mocking her, for not understanding her as a child.

 

But he chose to kiss her, instead. Just like she had asked, so politely. His lips crossed the small distance it had between them, and he tasted her for the first time. She seemed to sigh in relief as if he had another choice. He wanted to laugh. He didn’t have any other choice since he picked her from inside that cage in the Manor’s living room. He didn’t try to make it sensual, or to touch her inappropriately, so he ended up being the only thing he never thought he could be: romantic. He kissed her as if she were the most precious thing to him in the whole world, and deep down, she was exactly that. He caressed her waist, his lips and tongue provoked her very lightly. She answered to it avidly, expressing a desire he would never guess she had inside of her. He doubted it was her first kiss, but he had never thought Luna Lovegood could make him feel the way he was feeling. Excited. Aroused. Admired. Ready to ask her to be only his. Not in the slave sense. Truly his.

 

Suddenly, they were interrupted by a knock on the door. Snape opened his eyes, cursing under his breath as he yelled at the door. “I am busy! Go away.” To which Luna giggled, hiding her face on his chest, as she had done to sleep. From the other side of the door, Goyle yelled back grumpy, hating to fill Draco’s shoes as a messenger. “It’s an invitation for the weekly dinner. It will be a party for foreigner Death Eaters.”

 

Snape gulped hard. A party. That meant taking Luna outside their room again.


	8. Stockade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Stockade** : _A line of tall stout posts securely set either as a defense, to keep the enemy out, or as a pen to keep prisoners in._

Parties at the Manor never were good news. It only had occurred once, but it was the night Snape and Narcissa tried to help Luna run away, and he had been chosen to guard the house with a couple other Death Eaters. But now, the party was happening just inside the Manor, and without a real reason to guard it against outside rebels once it was vacant, Snape would be invited to join. And also invited to bring Luna. Obviously this last ‘invited’ is just irony. He rose from the mattress carefully, looking like he had been suddenly beaten before he opened the door slowly. Goyle was on the other side, holding a small beige envelope, that he passed to Snape before looking around at his room. Luna was hiding behind Snape’s bed, looking at the door with surprised eyes. Goyle smiled at the blonde girl and then looked back at Snape. “Your bed is very tidy. Sorry for interrupting your playtime.” He whispered, but loud enough for Luna to hear, before closing the door.

 

Snape gulped hard, looking at the beige envelope on his hands before looking back at Luna. He took the envelope with him to the bed, tapping it softly for her to sit by his side. The girl quickly sat where he had pointed, looking curiously at the object in his hands. “Is it bad news?” She said to him, raising her blue eyes. “Terrible news, I suppose.” He replied, caressing the edge of the envelope before opening it. The message was short but very much clear: they were invited to a dinner in two days, and he was expected in fancy clothes. There was no reference to his slave’s clothes, which could indicate to anyone else her presence wasn’t requested, but right in the P.S. area, there was a description of how to indicate the possibility of sharing or exclusivity of your pet.

 

_Pet_. The name made Luna’s stomach drop a few inches. She hated the way they referred to them as small fragile things. Less than humans. Snape placed his arm around her, pulling her close and sighed softly. “Voldemort will host a party to some Death Eaters that helped him from outside of England. And I am supposed to take you with me. This brings… some additions.” He finished, clearly uncertain as he flicked his eyes from her to the letter.

 

“Which additions?” She finally asked, after an eternity. Snape looked clearly uncomfortable as he tried to formulate an educated and clear answer to her. “Like… some of them might ask for me to share you… publically. Or to simply touch you. Even… to watch you with their own girls. And the clothing… you would be wearing something very… _very_ … transparent.” He replied as quickly as he could, never looking at her. Luna suddenly felt extremely nervous. Everything looked way too much, and the thought that Avery would be there too and demand for those things made her shiver under Snape’s arms. “No. Don’t even think about it.” Snape said quickly, raising her chin with his hand as he looked into her eyes. “I won’t allow it. I will… I will think about something. You are only mine.”

 

_Only mine_.

 

Even if he had just said it to prove his point, the phrase made Luna daydream about it being true. She licked her lips, agreeing with her head as she whispered softly: “I trust you, Severus.” He suddenly looked uncomfortable again, while he stopped to grab her chin and turned his head away. “This doesn’t mean I will be able to provide you proper clothing.” But the girl agreed anyway. Because she trusted him, but even more, because she was _his_.

 

***

 

Luna looked at herself in the mirror and thought about not leaving it. Never again. She would prefer to die in that bathroom and be eaten by the worms, than to leave wearing that, or even worse, to go to a party dressed that way. But Snape kept knocking on the door, visibly worried and wondering why she was taking so long. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she tried to concentrate again. Snape had seen her naked. All the Death Eaters had seen her naked. But never… never while she was “trying” to look _sexy_. She had always been crying or pleading, and even if some of them would get off to it, it didn’t look like she was putting an effort at the time.

 

When she opened her eyes again, she made the same annoyed face to herself in the mirror and decided that wasn’t much to do to make anything better. Snape had promised to protect her, but this was beyond his power. “I am ready.” She said to the door, knowing he was just on the other side of it. She held the doorknob, shaking visibly, before opening it with her eyes closed to avoid seeing his reaction.

 

Snape’s first reaction was getting surprised. Because she had actually opened the door after almost an hour. Then, he pursed his lips quickly, as if he was avoiding saying something. The reaction he really wanted to have was to whisper breathlessly how stunning she looked, but she was being forced to wear that. So he stopped himself and swallowed anything that clothing made him feel. “You look good. Probably will be the most dressed one in this party.” He tried to formulate, looking just at her face.

 

Her eyes slowly began to open, and she sighed. “Is not that bad, is it?” She asked in that tiny voice she sometimes had. She was wearing some sort of nightdress, in a light pink, very clear because the fabric was nearly transparent. In her chest area, it had a flowery embroidery, and the thin straps were made of satin. An adorable magenta bow was wrapped just under her breasts, and the same magenta bow was on the tiara on her long loose hair. She had no underwear and was barefoot (clear rule to make escaping more difficult). And that was why Snape tried to keep his eyes on her face because the clothing was really see-through.

 

“Obviously not. Just… It will take just a few hours, I will be allowed to feed you, so you will have a proper dinner, and… and before you know it we will be back to our room, okay?” He replied, tying his tie quickly as he made his way to the door. “Oh, fuck.” Snape walked back to the bed, looking at her again. “I thought about something… you know… to try to keep anyone away. The invitation said something about marking you as exclusive…” He took a collar from the pocket of his suit. He placed it in her hand for her to analyze. It was light pink, just like her nightdress, and more like a dog-collar than a girly collar. It had his name in pearls just in the middle ‘Snape’. She looked at him and nodded, not liking the idea of wearing it so much, but knowing it had its reasons. He took the collar from her hands again and walked to her back, tying it softly around her neck and arranging her hair again. “You know what to say if anyone asks you anything right?” He wondered, taking her hand to the door. “Yes, I am Snape’s. You should ask him.”

 

They walked in silence until reaching the Main Hall, on the other side the Manor. But when they finally got there, the party wasn’t much of a party at all. Luna looked around and Snape was completely right: she was the most dressed slave. Most of them were completely naked, kneeling just by her owner's side, some were being fucked in public by a man that laughed and drank even while having sex. A guy that spoke French was caressing a slave’s face and asking in a very polite manner to her owner if he could spank her. Avery was sitting just by the bar, in a comfortable sofa, his three girls tied in difficult knots on the floor by his feet, all of them completely naked and wearing ball gags.

 

“Hey… hold my hand.” Snape whispered while taking her to the room. He stopped to talk to a few guests, holding Luna by her small hands all the time. Most of them complimented how he could torture her and keep her mostly bruise less, to which he answered now he had proven how great he was with potions. Most laughed at his answer, some checked again at Luna. When they reached the bar, he helped her sit on one of the stools and ordered a drink hugging her against his chest. “Severus… I didn’t…” She tried, before being interrupted by him. “I know. I am here. Remember? You are mine. Only mine.” He answered, caressing her hair softly as he smiled at her. She hid her face in his chest, breathing slowly as the elf served Snape a shot of firewhiskey.

 

It was when suddenly they both heard a French accent. “Such a _petite enfant_!” He said laughing, and looking at Snape. “I didn’t know they could be that young!” Snape shook his head, pressing Luna even more against his chest. “She is not a child, Luna is already eighteen.” He spits out, looking mad at the man. “It’s good that she looks this young, though right? Her beauty will last longer. And you can even make her call you daddy.” He laughed, extending his hand to touch Luna’s hair.

 

“No,” Snape said firmly. “I don’t share. She is mine.” He said between his teeth, mostly in a growl, as his eyebrows got furred. “Oh, I see, forgive me. I was just wondering if we could all enjoy seeing the petite with another beautiful girl I just saw. Her master was completely open to playtime!” His eyes flicked to Luna’s collar, and he laughed again. “I will leave you with your puppy then.” He finally said, leaving just after blinking playfully to Snape.

 

“Dear followers…” Voldemort suddenly was heard through the room and made everyone turn their heads to his throne, even Snape, and Luna. “Welcome! To my humble and small Manor.” He announced, to which everyone in the room seemed to laugh. “I hope you are already enjoying the reunion and drinking to our success in implementing six months of rightful power.” The room exploded into applause, and even Snape felt compelled to clap or otherwise people would wonder why he wasn’t excited enough. “Greetings to the foreigner friends that helped our border control, and to my dear intimate friends that help me daily. Drink, enjoy yourselves, and make good use of our Manor’s resources!” Everyone with a glass at that point rose it to the ceiling, knowing exactly what he meant by resources.

 

“Severus Snape… good Severus Snape.” Someone whispered by his side, making Luna jumpy. When they looked, Avery was standing right next to them, two of his girls being held by a long leash, kneeling by his side. “I think you already met Edouard, our French pedophile.” He said with a laugh, drinking some of his firewhiskey. “He is telling everyone how your blondie looks just like a thirteen-year-old. You should keep an eye on him, good Severus.” Avery looked at the sofa and pointed it to them. “Otherwise when you come back from the toilet you might catch something like this, right?”

 

Just as Snape turned his head to the sofa, he wasn’t strong enough to resist the urge of hiding Luna’s face again on his chest before she could see it. Avery’s third slave was on her fours, her body completely tied with a white rope, her mouth filled with the ball gag, as the French guy fucked her from behind, spanking her ass several times. The slave had small tears in the corner of her eyes, but she looked kind of numb as if they already had done it several times with her. “See you around, good Severus.” Avery completed, pulling the other two slaves by the long leash and yelling at the room. “Who wants a taste of these two?”

 

Each second after Voldemort speech, the whole place was becoming more and more filled with depravities. Snape looked down at Luna and tried to smile at her, but Avery was right. He couldn’t let go one second of her because even wearing his name on her neck, anyone could simply think that was just a puppy play, just like Edouard had said. There were some gambling about which man could make her own slave pass out first, a lot of torture and cruciatus curses flying everywhere, while at the same time many slaves were used.

 

He growled, picking Luna up on his arms just like he had done before, and took her to one of the corner sofas. He couldn’t allow her to watch all those things. He couldn’t allow her to breathe the same air as those pathetic men. The corner sofa he took her to was distant enough from the bar and Avery, and from the main mess. He sat down and kept Luna on his lap, her face turned to his own. “Look at me.” He asked, raising her face with his hand. “Do you trust me?” He whispered.

 

Luna rose her eyes, knowing that for the small part she had seen, it was only getting worse by how Snape was worried about hiding her face. She sat on his lap, each one of her tights on one side of his own, as she nodded softly, her long hair falling to her waist. “I do.” She answered in a low tone. “You remember what I kept repeating all day long? What I kept saying to make sure you know nothing will happen to you?” She nodded, biting her lips. “That I am yours.” She tried, lowering her face.

 

He sighed softly, his eyes never leaving her own, trying to keep a small bubble of safety around them, as if they were alone there. But something kept repeating into his mind until he finally whispered the words. “And do you want to be mine in all the senses?” His hands grasped her waist, holding her tight as he looked at her. Luna rose her head, looking confused at him. “What do you mean? I belong to you… and I am… I am your slave.” She said in a tiny voice, just keeping the discourse she had told to herself that he would have wanted her to replicate.

 

Snape shook his head, growling in frustration as he pulled her closer, so close to his face they could feel each other’s breathing. “Not in this sense. Really mine. I want you to choose to be mine, not… not be forced to it. In every sense of the word.” Luna moaned when he pulled her, her breathing turning to irregular as she looked into his eyes. She didn’t fully understand what he meant. Was he asking for a relationship? For her to be his willing slave? For love? What exactly that meant? But the real question was: what did she want? She was being given a choice for the first time in her life inside the Manor.

 

Snape would never understand why he felt the need to express those words to Luna. Why he needed so badly to make sure she liked him and was not only trying to survive him. His hands moved to her hair while she kept staring straight into his eyes. He was trying to understand what her sight was meant to express, when, to his surprise, she leaned in and kissed him softly. Romantically. Her lips brushed lightly against his own, her hands moved to caress his shoulder, running up to stroke his hair. His hands were firmly gripping her by her waist, as if he stopped holding her, she would run away. Probably his fingers would be marked against her porcelain skin for that intense holding, but neither one of them cared. Not while they kissed and caressed and breathed against each other.

 

“I want to be yours.” She whispered at some point between kisses. Her nose touched his own slowly as she looked into his eyes. “But not as your willing slave. As your… your love.” It was just what he needed to hear. He picked her up, his arms just under her butt, allowing her to keep kissing his lips and caress his hair. They crossed the Main Hall glued together, not really interested in what people would think about that, but hoping they would be too busy to notice. As Snape and Luna finally stepped out of the Main Hall, the French pedophile turned to Avery with a wicked smile. “They are either in a very set daddy/little girl relationship, or they are in love.” To what Avery laughed and agreed. “He is not strong enough to be in a BDSM relationship. Thanks for helping me find his weakness.”


	9. Surrender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Surrender** : _To admit defeat and give up in the face of overwhelming odds._
> 
> (I suppose I have some notes about this chapter. As much as I love pretty stories about the loss of virginity, this fanfic never was meant to romanticize anything. In fact, that is why I took so long to develop their relationship and get to the good stuff because I always meant to write something raw and realistic. So this is my experience about the loss of my own virginity, and how I face it. I am sorry if you guys were expecting something happier or perhaps sexier, but this is what I have for now. Although, I can spoil you all about happy and sexy sex on the chapter to follow.)

Snape closed the door with his foot before he laid down on the bed with Luna, on top of her. She giggled under his weight, already accustomed by now to his kisses, but this time it all felt different. The air between them was denser, and she could feel the need in his touch. Her legs were stroking his sides before she wrapped them around his waist. That movement made him growl, looking at her with his dark eyes and finally asking some space between their lips. “You promise?” He whispered to her between his teeth, a hint of sadness on his expression as he looked down at her.

 

Her hands moved slowly to his cheek, her breasts moving slowly by her profound breaths. She nodded and smiled at him. “I love you.” She whispered, pulling him closer to her hands and kissing him softly. “I am yours from the day you preferred to be punished than to allow me another day here. I am yours from the day you chose to share your meals with me, and get no credit. I am yours because you had a much easier path to choose, Severus. And you chose to save me.” There it was. All the feelings that had been locked carefully inside her heart, all the things she hadn’t allowed to herself to even think about.

 

Snape was visibly shocked. His elbows were on the side of her head, supporting most of his weight as he looked down at her. She had spoken all the things that had been on his mind for weeks now, but that he never had the courage to speak. He had his heart broken just once before, but it was broke enough for him to avoid feeling again. Any kind of feeling at all. And there she was. The small bright and kind Luna, telling him that he had a special place in her heart. She didn’t know his double agent role, his sufferings, the horrible things he had to do, and yet… she chose to see the good side of him. It wasn’t the easier path either.

 

But the words couldn’t pass through his throat yet. They simply couldn’t. So he chose to answer her in a way she would understand. Or at least he hoped so.

 

He leaned against her, nuzzling against her neck and the light pink collar. He knew she wasn’t very fond of it, but reading his name locked into her body made him shiver with contentment. He kissed her neck, his hands slowly pulling the nightdress to move under it, feeling her skin. Luna moaned softly when she felt his hands feeling her skin, her arms wrapping themselves around his shoulders. Snape kissed her earlobe, licking the skin behind it softly before he whispered to her: “Please?”.

 

It made her want to giggle. For all the matters, she was a slave. And there was her owner begging her for something. She couldn’t deny the state of arousal she was in. How she wanted him as much as he wanted her. “I never did it before.” She whispered back, looking into his eyes. “Can we… do it slowly?” Snape looked down at her with a mix of surprise and acceptance. It was understandable. She was an outcast in school, later she joined the fight against Voldemort. “Are you sure that you want to do it with me? For the first time?” He asked, his tone a little bit higher than the whispers they were using.

 

Luna nodded simply, raising her head to give a kiss on his cheek. Her mouth found his lips next, the traditionally romantic kisses they shared turning into something more passionate and hungry. His hands found her legs, wrapped around his waist, and began to caress them softly, his breathing hard. The schematics were easy considering she was nearly naked already, but his full suit was starting to make him angry. He reluctantly let her go, causing her to moan and bit her lower lips. Snape took his blazer and shirt quickly, kicking his elegant shoes. He took a moment to look at Luna and almost devoured her with his eyes.

 

Her legs were parted, the short nightdress barely covering the beginning to her thighs, a peak of her pink-ish pussy pretty visible. Her nipples were hidden by the embroidery of flowers, but the way her breasts moved with her short breaths were clear. Clear enough to make him salivate. Her neck and face were flushed, her lips red from the kissing, barely separated by her hard breathing. And her eyes. Those blue beautiful eyes, looking at him as if he were the most special person on Earth. He didn’t deserve Luna. He didn’t even deserve that look she had on her face.

 

He knew that at some point life would ruin this. But he decided at least to enjoy it while it lasted.

 

He took his belt off, unzipping his pants while she giggled in expectation. He also had a silly smile on his face, which they looked like longtime lovers. When he finally crawled to the bed, covering her body with his own, she sighed with an intensity that looked like she was holding her breath. He smiled down at her, caressing her hair with his hands before leaning in for another kiss. Another passionate and intense kiss, that made her moan against his lips, instinctively asking for more. His hands moved down to the edge of her nightdress, pulling it over her breasts until it reached her head, removing it completely.

 

Her face then assumed a new shade of pink, but he shook his head, his hair falling everywhere. “You are so pretty.” He whispered as if he could read all her insecurities and fears. “The most pretty woman I’ve ever seen.” And as he spoke each word, he kissed her down by her neck until he reached her breasts. It wasn’t a lie just to win over her virginity. Until Luna, Snape thought no woman would ever compare to Lily Evans. He would have laughed at anyone that said he would fall that much in love with anyone else. However, it was already pretty clear inside his mind: Lily Evans now was just a sad memory of his childhood.

 

He took his time, looking down at her body before he chose what to do next. He moved his left hand by her breasts, touching them softly with his fingertips before he went lower. He touched her belly, her navel until he reached just the moist spot he had been looking for. Snape looked again into her eyes, her bright blue eyes before he moved his head down between her legs. Luna moved a bit, clearly self-conscious about it, but when she looked down at him, he was shaking his head. “You will feel good.” He said with a half smile, and it was enough for her, even still tense, to agree with her head and part her legs.

 

Snape took his time, touching her pussy slowly, his finger lingering up and down as if he was testing exactly where she enjoyed being touched. Luna just didn’t look tense, she felt tense under his fingers, so he did the one thing he was sure she would enjoy. He touched her clit softly, his finger moving in circles as he watched her face expectantly. Her mouth turned to a small ‘O’ as she looked down at him between her legs, and smiled, relaxing a bit.  

 

Snape leaned forward, anxiously licking his lips before tasting Luna for the first time. It kind of unlocked something inside of him, because he was soon eating her out with a hunger that even he didn’t know he had. As he viciously began to lick her clit, his fingers carefully exploring just the outside of the entrance of her pussy, Luna instinctively moved her fingers to his hair, opening her legs a little wider to his touch.  He couldn’t stop moaning a bit feeling her getting more relaxed, experimenting to trust his tongue inside of her.

 

Luna looked at him with wide eyes, holding his hair with more force. Snape laughed at her reaction, caressing the inner side of her tight before going back for her clit. It didn’t take long for her to orgasm against his lips, squirming and moving against his mouth. When she stopped and became suddenly quiet, he moved his head to look up at her, cleaning her thick fluids from his chin with the back of his hand. He moved up, kissing her cheek softly as she sighed under his body. “It was even more intense than the ones I had before…” She whispered in his ear, her face still red-ish making very clear her shyness. Snape kissed her again, multiple times on her face, while she hugged him. When he didn’t make a motion to keep going, even if she felt his hardness pressed against her thigh, she closed her eyes before saying in a very fast manner. “Won’t we… go on?”

 

Snape looked away from her face, agreeing with his head. “I was giving you a chance to give up winning by one.” He said with a laugh, before placing his elbows protectively around her head. One of her hands held his arm as she began to feel a little bit worried again. “I promised… slowly, remember?” He said against her earlobe, placing his hands on his cock. She nodded, closing her eyes firmly. Snape finally placed his knees between her legs again, taking a deep breath as he looked below and observed Luna parting her legs. He experimented on placing the tip of his cock on the entrance of her pussy, and she squirmed nervously, which made him kiss her tenderly, now on her lips.

 

He tried it again, and this time she seemed more prepared for it. He began to thrust slowly, entering her narrow pussy, which made him growl. She was way tighter than he would ever expect, and deep inside a sudden urge to thrust in one single motion began to grow inside of him. His monster side, the hidden side he hated, it was no surprise that it would also be a selfish side. He controlled himself, taking deep breaths as he forced himself in as slow as he could be. She was quiet under his weight, surprisingly quiet, but at some point, she began to whimper and mewl. Snape quickly looked into her eyes, that he could only notice now that were watery, and kissed her lips lovingly.

 

“Do you want me to stop? We can try again another time.” He whispered, kissing her gently as he suddenly stopped his advances, caressing her hair with his right hand as he supported his weight on his left elbow. Luna shook her head quickly as soon as his words left his mouth, her blonde and pale hair moving everywhere. “No… I want just to get done with this. So I… So I get to enjoy it.” She said, the paradox of a half smile and watery eyes playing on her face. “You can tell me to stop at any time, you know it, right?” He wondered again, placing her hair behind her ear. She kissed in in response, placing her arms around his neck and closing her eyes. Then, he began again to move inside of her, for what felt like an eternity until he was completely inside of her.

 

People usually would romanticize the loss of virginity, saying that as soon as your hymen is broken, you begin to feel pleasure, or that it just stings a bit, like a mosquito bite. It wasn’t what Luna was feeling, at all. It hurt, a lot. Even with careful movements and his lovingly kisses, it was weird and it didn’t feel good at any point from the moment he began to thrust inside of her. Obviously, after he was fully inside of her, she didn’t feel as bad as before, but it wasn’t nice either. And Snape tried, oh he tried, to make it good. And somehow this was nice enough. To have this moment with someone that was trying his best to make her feel good, that showered her with love and affection and all the time kept repeating they could stop at any moment.

 

It didn’t last too long before his moving became erratic and she felt he was close. She wrapped her legs around his waist like she had done before, and it made him moan and give small bites on her neck. “Fuck.” He whispered, looking at her with intense eyes. His forehead had small drops of sweat, and she found funny how he looked exactly like in classroom: concentrated and slightly grumpy. “You know that you can come right? I am winning for one, remember?”

 

She didn’t even need to ask twice.

 

***

 

Snape tried as much as he could to support his weight on his elbows by the side of her head, but in the end, the attempts showed really futile when he had just cummed. He rolled to his side, after feeling his cock slipping out of her, and took a deep breath before he rose his head and pulled Luna by her waist. She cuddled against him, hiding her face in his chest like she had done sometimes now after they kissed. Snape kept staring at the ceiling, biting his lips and wondering what he could say. Or what he should say. Was there anything that needed to be said once you were done having sex with someone that was virgin until then? His first time was so messed up and without meaning, he couldn’t know. Actually, now that he stopped to think about it, all the times he indeed had sex were meaningless. And weird. And melancholic. Like he was trying to get done with a duty his own body had imposed.

 

And he always felt ashamed after it. Inferior. Because a man like him wasn’t supposed to be bedding someone when he had so much job to do both sides of the war. But now… now he simply felt relieved. That she was there, holding him and breathing against his sweaty skin. The three little words that had been haunting him over the last weeks got caught on his throat, and as he opened his mouth to say them, Luna was already mid-sentence and he hadn't noticed. “… so, I am sorry for crying during it.”  

 

“What?” He asked again, looking down at her head. She was staring into his eyes, her chin against his chest as she draw something on his chest with the tip of her fingers. “You are apologizing because it hurt?” He tried again. “Yes, I really wanted you to like it. Because I did before. When you were… you were…” Her face became pink-ish again and she gulped hard. Snape smiled at her shyness and caressed her face with his hand. “Stop apologizing. I am sorry I couldn’t make it better. But we can always… try again?” It was supposed to be an affirmation, but like always around Luna, it felt like she was the one calling the shots in their relationship.

 

“ _Obviously_ I want to try again… can we do it now?”


	10. Submission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Submission** : _the action or fact of accepting or yielding to a superior force or to the will or authority of another person._

  
They had slept holding each other, their legs wrapped, their arms tangled.

  
Luna didn't take much time to fall asleep, which was fine for Snape. He was really looking forward to thinking about what had just happened. Actually, he was looking forward to organizing the thoughts on his head and evaluate what he had just done: was it wrong? Or at least _that_ wrong? He couldn't avoid feeling conflicted by the thought he was her former teacher, and if it wasn't reason enough, there was the age gap. And the fact she was trapped, and he was the detent of power in their relationship. Everything was so messy and so weird and he couldn't know what to do next.

  
Snape knew some people would say she was being coerced by the situation to sleep with him. That it was an instinctive behavior towards the incarceration. Or that it was mere Stockholm Syndrom, even if he wasn't the one to actually abduct her. They would say she was doing just what she had to do to survive. Superficial and fake feelings. That her head was alleviating her suffering by giving her the illusion it was love. That, as her former professor, he knew how much power he had in their dynamics since the beginning, and he knew that someone with her personality wouldn't fight too long against it.

  
And Snape would agree with all those things. Even if they made Luna sound weak; because how could you expect someone to be tough for so long during a war? The only thing he could be certain at that point was that he loved her. Truly. And if after that was all done, he would give her a choice. It was the best he could do, to prove he wasn't taking advantage of the situation.

  
He had also considered telling her about his double-agent deal with Dumbledore and their plans, but he was afraid she would misjudge him. Or even consider that the battle was actually lost because he didn't have the courage to try harder. He always blamed him for not trying harder. Even if it sounded weird, it was better for her to disagree with his actions thinking he was a death eater than being disappointed at him for not helping enough.

  
It was with all these thoughts that Snape slowly fell asleep.

 

***

 

Snape woke up later, passing the lunchtime, with Luna nuzzling his face softly. Her cheeks were blushed, and her eyes shining with the sunlight that entered through the window. When he grumpily opened his eyes, she smiled down at him, kissing the tip of his nose and whispering a ' _Good morning_ '. And suddenly, all the worries from the day before washed away, because Snape decided they were already too hurt to doubt what they had now. If the time proved it to be any different, they would deal with it in the future.

  
He slowly rose his hands to touch her hair, just behind her ear, stroking her scalp gently with his fingers. She made a happy noise, closing her eyes and biting her lips. But it went as soon as it came, Luna opened her eyes and looked down at him. "Hum, I actually woke you up to show you something. I think I stained the sheets." She whispered the last part, as a young girl knowing she would get punished.

  
Snape sat on the bed slowly, lazily passing his hand over his eyes and looked at the place she was pointing. It had a small stain of blood on it, smaller than the palm of a hand, and Snape couldn't avoid smiling a bit at her reaction to such a small thing. "I know sometimes you can bleed when you have sex for the first time, but..." She continued, before he shook his head, his messy hair getting even more tangled. "There is no problem. Stop apologizing for everything, we can just wash it." He pointed out, moving her to get away from the bed as he began to remove the sheets. "You should go take a shower while I finish it." He completed, and the girl simply agreed, running to the bathroom and locking the door behind her.

  
He took his time, changing the white sheets for an exactly equal pair, and folding the stained one before placing it inside a small plastic bag; he wouldn't wash it, obviously. They didn't have the space to put it to dry, sending it to the elves wasn't an option (anyone seeing that would clearly get to the conclusion he never had sex with her before that night), and he wasn't going to trouble himself because of a piece of textile.

  
When she finally came back, the towel weirdly around her body as she looked shy at Snape, he was laying on the clean bed, reading a book, in his underwear. He wasn't someone to expose himself if he didn't have a reason to do so, and it felt like a right thing, since she was taking a shower, to get dressed. Or at least put his underwear on. "Was it good? The water I mean." He asked, lowering the book to his lap. She agreed, her wet hair falling against her back. She looked awkwardly around the room, trying to spot were her nightdress was, before Snape sat closer to the edge of the bed and patted the spot just between his legs. "Come."

  
Luna walked in his direction, gulping hard. All the things they had done the previous night came rushing back to her mind, the transparent nightdress, the party, the way his lips felt great against her nipples. She didn't regret it; she actually looked forward to trying it again since he had said it would be more pleasure this time. But at the same time, there was something that made her more shy at the light of the day. But Luna sat, just where he had directed her, the wet hair close to his chest.

  
He stretched out to pick his wand, moving it against the air, and soon another towel was on his hands. He left the wand by their side, resuming his attention to her blonde hair, moving the towel against it so it could dry. Luna kept holding the towel that was wrapped against her body firmly, biting her lips as she waited, but Snape didn't advance on his motion. He simply kept drying her hair, not even touching her skin. "Why are you doing it?" She finally asked, turning her head to look at him.

  
Snape stopped suddenly, the towel falling to his lap as he considered her words. "I guess..." It was his time to gulp, but harder, looking down at the towel on his lap and raising an eyebrow. So many options began to flow on his mind.

  
_I love you._

  
_I always wanted to take care of someone._

  
_I have this cliche need to feel like I belong because of my family._

  
_I feel good not needing to be harsh, having somewhere safe to also be caring._

  
_I am not just the grumpy melancholic man you know, I am much more._

  
_I am a grumpy melancholic man, but you changed me._

  
_You make me want to protect you from the world._

  
"You might get sick if you walk around like this." Great, from all the options floating around his mind, he took the most _granny_ one to blurt out for Luna. The girl smiled, clearly trying to stop herself from laughing at his answer. "Don't you dare." He whispered, which obviously made her begin to laugh. "Stop laughing!" He repeated weakly because he couldn't actually blame her for laughing at such a ridiculous answer. She turned around, getting on her knees in front of him and smiling, her hands moving from the towel to his face.

  
"You are funnier than I would ever have guessed." She said softly, lowering her face to give him a chaste kiss. As soon as their lips touched, Snape wrapped his arms around her body, locking her in place as they kissed. She tasted like berries, or perhaps it was the smell of her shampoo, he couldn't know. But it was tasty. Her small hands grabbed his hair, holding it strongly as they deepen their kiss. His own hands moved too, one of them grabbing her ass without any shyness. And to his surprise, she didn't even make a sound of surprise.

  
It was everything he needed to know at that point.

  
Holding her hard against his body, he turned them and laid her on the bed, his weight just above her. Her mouth moved slowly to kiss his neck, his breath against her ear driving her insane. At the moment her mouth began to suck at his skin, she heard a small grunt from him, that became a low moan. And if she could choose, she would choose to have him sounding like that forever.

  
His hands felt like they were everywhere. Tasting, grabbing, molding her. Her lips rose to his ear, a trail of sloppy kisses. His hands left her, moving to remove clumsily his underwear, while she continued to spill kisses on his skin. When his hands returned to her body, she felt the pressure of his hard cock against her belly. This made her unconsciously moan against his ear, laying back on the pillow to look at him. he also stopped to look at her, with her blue eyes staring at him. And chose to do the only thing she wasn't expecting.

  
Her teeth moved to bit her lips as she felt the head of his cock brushing against her core. He kept looking straight at her, seriously, analyzing her expression and her blushed cheeks. "Ask me for it." He simply said. "W-What?" She stammered, placing her hands on his chest, trying to move herself to feel him more firmly against her. But he always escaped her advances; his cock just kept brushing lightly against the entrance of her pussy. "Ask for it, Luna." He simply repeated, Merlin knew how keeping that face serious. "I-I-I want you." She tried weakly, deep inside knowing it wouldn't be enough. He shook his head, moving his pelvis back so he wasn't touching her anymore. "Try again." He whispered, supporting his weight on his hands rather than his elbow, so the distance between their bodies was larger. Luna whined against the fresh sheets, for the first time over their months living together, looking like a spoiled girl that wasn't getting what she wished for. "Please." She tried again, to which Snape simply shook his head.

  
"Try harder." He said in his firm voice, looking down at her with his right eyebrow raised. "P-Please... I-I-I want you to... fuck me? No, I need it? I-I just..." She began to stammer again, pouting at him. His face became less rigid, a half-smile dancing around his lips. "I never thought I would hear you saying _fuck_." He said before he leaned down to kiss her lips again. "Please..." She tried again with kisses, her hands going back to hold his hair again, her fingers intertwined with it.

  
Without warning, Snape suddenly moved and forced himself half inside her.

  
And she smiled at it.

  
He took a second or two to understand it. Her eyes were closed, her lips forming a wide satisfied smile as she held his hair. He couldn't deny she was really wet, he actually had never felt a woman so ready and so wet around his cock. But that smile, that satisfied smile, her lips parted, her head against the white pillows... he would remember that forever, it didn't matter what. "So now you like it, hun?" He said with sarcasm, to which she nodded, not even trying to argue, the redness still present on her cheeks, but the shyness long was forgotten.

  
He moved out of her, his cock heavily moving back to enter her, each time harder and deeper. And there was no more tears or discomfort. Just her smile, and a few strokes later, moans. High moans filling his ears, the wetness dripping to his balls, their sweat mixed as he kept going. She was a delight. He would never get used to it.

  
But the monster inside of him wanted more. It wanted the forbidden things, the degrading, the unthinkable for naive little Luna. It wanted her begging, tied like a gift, unable to move, gagged, her thin aristocratical nose touching his balls while his cock touched her throat. It wanted her pleasure: the moans it would bring, her body shaking from it like he had seen before, but it also wanted her willingly doing anything and everything to please him. Like a good little _slave_.

  
His cock was suddenly out of her, his hands pulling her by her hair as he turned her body around without much effort. Her knees felt against the mattress of his bed, her face fully against his pillow, her knuckles already white from holding the bed so hard. Her firm and pale ass on the air, as her whole body moved from her deep breaths. "P-Please fuck me more." She tried again, already knowing how he loved hearing her saying that word. Such an unthinkable word for sweet Luna.

  
It was the first time his cock entered her in one single motion. It took a long grunt from Snape, that was holding her firmly by her hips. Her face was still buried in the pillow, but her moans, even if muffed, could be heard by him. "Tell me..." He continued, licking his lips as he took deep breaths between the hard and long strokes he gave her. "... tell me who you belong to." His voice sounding way more dominative and possessive he would want to. Luna simply moaned in response, moving her hips against his movements, as if she could allow him to get any further inside of her. "Who?" He repeated, for the first time smacking his hand hard against the side of her ass.

  
She jumped at it, turning her face to her side, looking up at him. "You. I belong to you." She answered. Snape shook his head, a wicked smile on his face as he grabbed her by her long hair. His fingers were intertwined with it like she liked to do with him while kissing. He pulled it until her back was against his chest, but didn't stop fucking her. "No, Luna. You don't belong to me. I own you. Repeat, please." He whispered in her ear, leaving a bite mark on her shoulder. She nodded, without thinking twice at what he had said. "You own me, _all_ of me."

  
Snape let go of her hair, her face laying back on the mattress, her ass again up against the air. He looked down at her eyes and simply commanded. "Touch yourself." To which she expired in relief, moving her hand between her legs to touch her small clit while he continued to fuck her.

  
His words kept buzzing around her head. I own you. And even if in any other scenario she would grow sad at this input, at that moment, it just made her even more excited. Her fingers flicked hard against her clit, her moaning peaking as she reached her orgasm. He owned her. The thought was sinful, wrong, but so very delicious. As he felt her reaching her orgasm, Snape felt his resistance lowering, his release so near, he just had time to reach to hold on the division between her ass and thighs, before cumming right inside of her.

 

***

 

"I think it's my turn to apologize." He whispered as he held her by her hips. She was still taking deep breaths and didn't move not even a single bit. "Are you... are you okay?" He tried, caressing her waist and looking down at her closed eyes. Luna nodded, opening her eyes and smiling at him before lowering her body completely against the mattress. "You don't need to apologize, Severus." She whispered, looking at him as he got closer to her, his arm pulling her closer. "I didn't want to... scare you. You just looked so into it, I couldn't..." He began, waiting for her to scowl him. "I actually liked it." She simply put it, raising her eyes to observe him. "A lot."

  
So she perhaps also had a monster inside of her. Even if it was smaller than his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone that is reading it and commenting. I am really happy that something so therapeutic to me is entertaining you. I hope you like this chapter and continue with me till the end of this story ♡


	11. Destruction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like most of you know by now, the title of this work is inspired by _The Chairman's Waltz_ , by John Williams. I _really_ urge you to listen to it while reading the following chapter. It will give you the proper tone.
> 
>  **Destruction** : _the action or process of causing so much damage to something that it no longer exists or cannot be repaired._

Happiness was an expensive coin to bear in the Malfoy Manor.

 

But Snape and Luna would just understand it more than a year after that day he had chosen to save her. Some people might say you may live with someone without knowing them entirely, but when you share a single room and bathroom with that person, it’s impossible to hide your true self. And in this almost arranged marriage between them, that they tried to go on with their lives, sharing the sacred space that their room had become.

 

Snape would bring different french delicatessen for Luna when he went outside. He always tried to bring her something every time he went outside: it was his way of telling her that he was always thinking about her. So she had been gifted with the most delicate and weird french candy; the sweetest cupcakes; interesting and classical books about mostly anything she wanted to read about; and miniatures of small animals hand-painted, that she now collected in a shelf she had taken to herself. Every night, Snape would make sure to hold her tight, and brush her hair softly with his fingers until she fell asleep. He had found in himself a soft side he was so surprised to see, but also, so scared to show fully. It was unavoidable, though. She had become his everything.

 

Luna, on the other side, had learned new things just to please him. Was always trying to keep the room in order, and learned how to knit. In the beginning, the pieces of fabric she tried to do ended up turning into awful scarves. Sometimes they were too thin, other times they would fall apart when she tried them on. But finally, she got her way through it. And it was near Christmas enough for her to start the project she had been looking for: to knit a sweater to Snape as one of her gifts. She had always heard about how Mrs. Weasley knitted sweaters for all her family and for Harry, and that was her goal: to show Snape she considered him part of her family now.

 

It was the night before Christmas, and Luna was waiting for Snape to arrive from the Christmas dinner the Dark Lord was throwing. She was wearing the red dress he had gifted to her not long ago: it had long sleeves with silver glitter, and it fitted her well till her waist, where it opened in a round skirt. Her hair half loose, a red bow with silver glitter holding it all together. She looked down at the black pumps on her feet, feeling excited for the night they would have after he arrived. They had planned to have dinner together, with groceries Snape had bought in that same morning. And they would exchange gifts, and perhaps read a book together before sleeping. Maybe their kisses would last longer.

 

In the end, the only thing she wanted was for him to like her gift. The sweater - it was dark blue with black details on the finishing - was folded just inside a pretty blue box. Snape was always telling her how he considered blue to be her color, he always used the argument that it was a calm and sweet color, just like her. She wanted him to feel like he had the right to wear blue now, too.

 

But Snape never showed up.

 

Just after midnight, explosions began to make deafening sounds outside their room. Luna’s first reaction was to hide just behind Snape’s bed, sitting on the mattress that now was barely used, hugging the box with his Christmas gift. She kept observing the door, just her baby blue eyes showing above the sheets of the main bed. The whole building was trembling by them, and suddenly the door burst open, the protective spell turning into tiny flames in the air. But no one got inside. People just kept shouting at each other outside.

 

That was when she decided to leave the room for the first time since the party. But for the first time alone, since she had gotten there. The Manor was shaking in pure terror, the front door was knocked over with ease, and it turned into an enormous hole with all the destructive spell that was cast and hit the walls. The staircase had fallen, hitting the floor just as Luna stepped outside, a thick wave of dust flying everywhere. The girl looked around, a little bit lost, trying to make sense of what was happening.

 

 _Crucio_.

 

Luna felt the walls of the Manor hall behind her back as she tried to take a deep breath. The confusion, the dust, the yelling. And each time someone shouted “ _Crucio_!”, it just made her entry into a spiral of panic. She didn’t hold a wand for a year now, and even if she still loved magic and really wanted to try it again someday, she was now also scared of it. Scared of that damn word. She was gulping hard, trying not to be consumed by panic and anxiety, holding the box in her arms as if it could save her when she spotted someone she knew.

 

The curly and wavy hair of Hermione was different. Shorter than she was used to seeing in their school days. But it was really her, a new wand on her hands that Luna didn’t recognize, battling a Death Eater. And just by her side, Fleur had stupefy-ed an opponent so hard, his body had hit the walls with force and his body was laying limp on the floor.

 

A body on the _floor_.

 

Luna looked around for the first time with practical eyes: defeated people meant wands available. And even if she couldn’t control someone’s else wand fully, it would be enough to protect herself for now. She just needed to find a wand flexible enough to accept any command. She hated the idea: she felt like an opportunist animal, looking for left-overs. But she wouldn’t fall. Not after losing the war, and being kidnapped, and given away like a worthless object. She wouldn’t lose her head, not in that moment, because even if it sounded stupid, she had more to lose now than at the Hogwarts Battle.

 

And right now, she needed a wand. To find Snape. Because if the Order, or what was left of the Order, or whatever resistance they had become, caught Snape... they would not spare him. He had played a role so big in the developments of everything, there was no way he would get out with it. And even if Luna had her own moral and her own sense of right and wrong, she couldn’t let him go like this. Because there was good in him. She had seen it. There was so much good inside of him, they just needed to know.

 

The second wand she tried, from a person she didn’t fully recognize, fitted properly. She left the blue box on the floor, a single tear falling on the top of it as she regretted the things that wouldn’t play according to their plan. Their dinner. The book before bed. Her gift. And all the nice things she had planned for him. She sniffed softly, looking around and spotting, just right where she was sitting on the floor, the wands throne.

 

It felt like time had stopped. Voldemort was laughing, but his eyes had a nervousness that was palpable. So visible. How could he win the same battle two times, now knowing he didn’t win the first at all? Some of the broken wands of his throne had already fallen from it and were scattered across the floor. His smile at each second assumed a new nervous state because his spells just kept ricocheting and never hit his target. But what really got Luna paralyzed was exactly his opponent. Harry. Alive and healthy. Fighting Voldemort with an anger and a disposition that she would never dream again to see. Voldemort kept provoking him, but Harry never answered. He didn’t even spend his time answering Voldemort, he just kept throwing spells with a straight face.

 

Luna was so caught in the scene, that she didn’t notice Avery approaching from behind.

 

His mistake was just to step on the box she had laid on the floor a few steps over. She turned her head to look over her shoulder, the wand on her hand trembling just like the walls of the Malfoy Manor. “Oh, dear pet. Leave the wand. You dirty little things shouldn’t be handling this.” Avery smiled, visibly not really worried about fighting with Luna. “Don’t get anywhere near me!” She yelled at him, pointing the wand at his face, while she balanced to get on her feet. Avery looked at her with a mean smile, shaking his head. “You know I can’t do such a thing, pet. Because after this is all done, I will make sure your owner is really dead. Not because I want you anymore, oh no.” He whispered, his wand suddenly moving in the air. An expelliarmus spell. So he really didn’t want to hurt her, not right now.

 

It was very instinctively. She closed her eyes, scared of what was going on, but her hand moved almost by herself, blocking the spell. When she opened her eyes, Avery was furious, his hand holding the wand as if it could fuse with his arm. “Oh, if I could right now... you would be dead. Dead little pet. But I am not a man to develop obsessions. They are weaknesses.” He tried another go on the same spell, but Luna answered with a stupefy that hit the wall just behind his head. At each second, Avery looked like this was all a matter of deep disrespect towards his figure. “But you know the best part of not satisfying my own obsession? I get to profit and leave Snape heartless.” He answered himself with a laugh, circling her like a predator with a prey. “That french clown is going to pay me good money to play _rape-the-minor_ with you.”

 

It was Luna’s time to grow angry. She went forward, moving in his direction before she yelled at him again. “No!” She rose her wand and pointed at his face. “I am tired of being worried and anxious about you. Fuck you.” Avery smiled, lowering his wand into his arrogant position as if daring her to do anything to him. The move fueled Luna’s anger, and a small voice kept talking in her mind.

 

_Just go._

_Crucio him._

_He deserves it._

_Look at all he did to you, Luna._

_You were a slave because he was the one to catch you._

_End him._

_Crucio him._

 

Her face suddenly was taken by the tears that were streaming down her face. When did she had become that kind of person? Vengeful. Angry. Mean. That was not her. She hated that little voice in her head. If that little voice won, at any point, Avery would win too. “Locomotor Mortis” She finally whispered, and Avery felt his head hitting the floor hard, every one of his muscles unable to move. He moved her eyes to stare at her face, and she smiled down at him. “Thank you for making clear I am better than you. Even after all that happened to me.”

 

She turned around, looking at Harry taking two steps back. His hand moved slowly, at the same pace as Voldemort. Their spells hit in the middle of their bodies, a show of green and red lights while they kept holding their wands. It lasted for a second. Just a second. Her sight over Harry, Avery on her feet immobilized, the wand firmly in her hands. That was when she felt something slipping by her legs. A spell. A Death Eater. _Sectusempra_. Her left hand touched her thigh, and it was blood. Luna looked at her hand, the blood all over it.

 

No. No. _No_. She felt another slash burning on her skin. And another. Running up her thighs, until it nearly reached her hips. The wand fell from her hands, her body collapsed on the floor. The Death Eater didn't even bother, passing over her body, the ending of his cape brushing lightly against her face. _No, please, no_. Her eyes were completely full of tears now, and she tried to hold her thigh, the blood flowing from it more quickly than she had imagined it would. Her head moved, Voldemort and Harry nowhere to be found anymore. Her vision began to blur, and that was when she felt the hardness of the blue box containing Snape’s gift brushing gently against her hair.

 

 _Please. Please, no. Please. Not this. Please. Not when I have something so important. Please_. She took a deep breath, her hands futile in their attempts to contain the flood of blood and the new marks that were opening on her skin. “Severus, _please_!” She yelled, the pain bigger than she had ever felt before. Was it because it was also psychological? Was it because there was so much to lose? “ _Severus_!” She tried again, her voice growing weaker. “Please, Severus, help!”.

She couldn’t see much anymore. Not more than a few blurry figures approaching her. Her left hand kept pressing against her thigh, but her right hand protectively curled against her belly.

 

“Please help me. _I can’t lose it_.”

 

***

 

A small blue parchment flicked around in the dusty air of the Malfoy Mansion. It had come from a blue Christmas box now laying on the floor, completely torn by steps. The sweater inside was dirty and set off on the edges. The parchment moved, like a feather in the air, without a single soul to bother its route. It finally rested in a pile of wands that composed a throne, not many hours before.

 

_Severus,_  
_I know you never had the courage to answer me all those times I said I loved you._  
_And I doubt it’s because you don’t feel it back._  
_Because if you didn’t... I wouldn’t feel this connection._  
_I wouldn’t feel like you are my world._  
_Our love is way more than the destiny, or being settle for whatever we think we deserve._  
_You deserve more than you have given yourself, Severus._  
_And even if I know that you placed yourself in danger by giving me a new home, I am deeply grateful._  
_Now, I put you in even more danger._  
_But I hope the happiness that comes from it is greater than the fear._  
_I am pregnant. I don’t know how long, but it’s recent._  
_I don’t know what we will do, and how, but I trust you._  
_I want you to be part of my family. Our family._  
_With love,_  
_Your Luna._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I re-planned the last few chapters because I thought this one could condense more than it actually could. So, I will finish this story - I promise now - at chapter 15. Thank you for reading!


	12. Coloniality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Coloniality** : _process by which a central system of power dominates the surrounding land and its components_

Her hair was dirty. And her body so sweaty it felt like it glued to everything that touched it. The space inside the cage made her feel weird cramps on her legs, that made her cry softly, almost to herself. Because she knew it didn't matter making a big deal out of it: her fate was worse than a few cramps. She had heard the Death Eaters whispering while she was locked in a cell, in Hogwarts. She would be given away as some sort of object. Her curiosity hadn't helped too: she had looked down from her cage during the trip, only to recognize Luna and the sisters Patil, which made her stomach hurts.

 

Voldemort was yelling some nonsense about his reign, that Hermione ignored. The other girls seemed to whine and cry about their fate, but she just kept staring at the Death Eaters and considering who would choose her, and what she would need to do to escape. Because she wouldn’t be bend to someone’s will. Her thoughts were interrupted by an audible gasp in the hall. Everyone looked at Draco, that walked to the cages and noticed her promptly. She looked back at him, knowing that wasn’t much to be done.

 

Suddenly, the cage was in the air. And that was how she got chosen by the Malfoy heir to be his slave.

 

***

 

Narcissa arrived just a few minutes later, the expression on her face not making entirely clear what she was feeling. She opened the door to Draco’s room, only to find him sitting on the floor, his eyes lost as he hugged his knees. Lucius was punching the wall and passing his hands through his hair, while Hermione was still inside the small confined cage. “Sometimes I really wonder how you both survived.” She whispered, walking to the cage and opening the intricate lock. The Granger girl took a while to leave it: her eyes kept staring at Narcissa, waiting for her to say something, __anything__  really. But the older woman had just flicked her eyes to both men, that were still dramatically making a scene. “Pull it together, Lucius.”

 

“Pull it... do you realize what it means?” He asked, completely out of himself, his voice dangerously loud as he looked at her. “It means that your son, protected and __marvelous__  son, will need to torture her to occasionally give some satisfaction to __him__.” He sighed, shaking his head and taking a deep breath. “Do you really see him torturing someone?” He wondered, pointing at Draco, that was still looking lost sitting on the floor. Hermione had just left the cage, still sitting out of it, leaning against the bars with expectation. She hated how they were deciding her future as if she wasn't in the room with them.

 

“Sometimes you are disgusting.” Narcissa simply stated, walking to the door and opening it. “Leave.” She stated to Lucius, showing the way out. The man left, visibly pissed off. When the three of them were finally left alone, Narcissa closed the door behind her back and leaned against it. “He is right. You know he is.” She said way more softly than seconds ago, and Hermione had expected it would be directed to Draco, but Narcissa was looking at her. “I already permitted them to toy with my son for too long.” She stated, moving closer to Draco and looking down at him. “No need to look like this. I don’t have any idea what your father said, but you won’t torture anyone. I know that... I know that deep down that is not who you are.”

 

Just then Draco rose his head, looking at his mother with watery eyes. “ _ _That__... Even now... __that__  mudblood is making everything more difficult...” He whispered, but Hermione had heard. She rolled her eyes, hugging herself as she looked away from Draco. She hated being in that situation, with that spoiled boy, and her weak mother. Both acting as if their lives were awful and their destiny was terrible. And as predictable, Narcissa lowered to hug her boy, shaking her head. “Stop acting like your father, that will do no good. I will find a way out, Draco, I promise.” She said softly, caressing his hair.

 

After their chat, both mother and son left. No words were spoken to her, and she kept unnoticed, like a silent burden to the Malfoy family. Draco’s room had an enormous window, magically locked, but from where Hermione could observe the garden. She had thought they would be back after a few hours, but suddenly the sun was rising, and Hermione began to wonder why they didn't bother to come back for her.

 

The whole night, she had spent sitting outside the cage, her back leaning against the hard bars, the hostage inside of her not wanting to get in trouble. Sickly considering the small cage a safe space. But when the Malfoys made no mention on appearing again during the morning, Hermione finally allowed herself to stand up and test her legs. The cramps had made them feel like weighing a hundred kilos, while really hurt. Her hands found the wall, and she began to search for anything that would help her escape that prison. The closet had looked like a good idea, but it turned out it just had a bunch of white shirts, Slytherin cloaks and anything that composed a Hogwarts uniform. She searched the drawers next, but there were just underwear, socks, documents, and shoes.

 

Closet. Nightstand. Under the bed. Bathroom. A loose part of the floor. Hermione wanted to scream from frustration. It wasn't possible that __jerk__ , that little __bastard__  didn't have a single thing she could use as a weapon. Some tears of frustration began to rise, as she looked around the room. She would use her own hands. Obviously, she would be dead just after it, but she would use her bare hands to kill that __motherfu-__...

 

The reality hit her hard. His lost expression, his bitten nails, the lack of anything that could be used in that room. They didn't trust him either. Perhaps he wasn’t in her condition, but he was some sort of prisoner too. That was the only answer to why Lucius seemed so angry, Narcissa so desperate and Draco... so weird. It was still a question either Voldemort had allowed Draco to bear a wand or not, but it was clear his room had been tampered with. Because there was no single fragment of glass (in a picture frame, for example), personal items, sickness potions in vials in the bathroom.

 

She pursed her lips, shaking her head as if telling herself ‘ _ _dont you dare feel sorry for him__ ’. Hermione walked to the bathroom again and closed the door, leaning against it. She couldn't lock it because there where no locks around the room, but at least this way she would know if someone tried to find her.

 

***

 

Hermione received every day a watery carrot soup, just before midnight. A house elf she didn't recognize brought it and left by the floor, close to Draco’s bed. Even if Hermione believed no elves really enjoyed their lives, she didn't try to contact the one that came every night. Simply because she was scared it might cause her a punishment. And, well, she was very aware of the punishments by Death Eaters, since she gained the right to a few during her stay in Hogwarts dungeons.

 

After a few nights, she began to sleep outside the bathroom, but against the door. Draco was nowhere to be found and she really hated being locked up inside a small space smelling the way she was. She had considered taking a bath once or twice, but she didn't want to pass the image she was __looking__  better. She didn't want to give him __any__  ideas. If anything, she had learned during her stay at Hogwarts that accepting the offer to a bath was a mistake.

 

However, Draco appeared one week later.

 

He brought her a small tray of milk and cookies, that he placed on the nightstand. She didn't rise from her seat on the floor by the bathroom. He looked at her with pursed lips and shook his head. “You had time alone. Why didn't you bath?” He asked, his pointy noise moving in a disgusted way. Hermione simply shook her head and didn't give further explanation, looking away from him.

 

“Whatever.” He said, giving his shoulders as he walked to his bed and sat on it. The blonde boy kept staring at the floor for a while before continuing. “I was thinking you would like to know the destiny of the other girls.” He said, and Hermione liked he didn't refer to them as slaves. “The Patil were given to Dolohov.” He continued, observing she didn't show any emotion at his comment. “Ginny’s friend, the sixth year blondie, is dead. Avery took her and lost control over his impulses.” Hermione kept quiet, staring at the window. “And Luna was chosen by Professor Snape.” __Finally__ something. She moved slightly, gulping hard.

 

“You really should have a bath.” He whispered, laying on his bed and staring at the ceiling, but his face now didn't show any sign of his usual disgusted face. “I won't touch you. Mother had made very clear you are too precious to her plans.” He moved on the bed, giving her his back.

 

She didn't know what to think about what he had just said.

 

***

 

They spent the next six months in relative peace. After he told her about the destiny of her friends, he spent another week without entering the room. Hermione wondered where he had been, and where he was spending his nights, but she just got to the conclusion he was perhaps with his parents. Every week, he visited her and brought her something. A snack. Some new clothes. Ink and paper. He spent the night in the room with her and by the time she woke up again, he was gone.

 

However, one night it wasn't Draco that opened the door of his room. Narcissa entered, looking around in doubt before locking the door behind her back. She stared at Hermione, that had changed substantially during those six months. She ate normally now, three meals that Draco explained as ‘ _ _I told it was part of my fetish__ ’. Se was wearing comfortable and proper clothing and was sitting on a mattress just by the bathroom door, where she liked to stay. Her hair was in a ponytail, and she was reading a book that once he had brought to her when she looked at the other woman.

 

“We will flee. I made a deal with Molly Weasley. She will give my son and I a refugee if we bring you and Luna with us.” She whispered, looking Draco’s closet and choosing a pink hoodie that was clear Hermione’s. “Dress this. It’s cold outside.” She stated, placing a bag that was on her shoulder on the bed. “It’s yours. Fill it with your belongings. We will leave in two hours.”

 

It was clear Hermione was confused. A small voice in her mind kept saying it was a trap, but some part of her wanted to have hope. Even if she didn't know fully what to do, she placed the few things Draco had brought to her inside the bag and waited. For Merlin’s knew what.

 

***

 

They were running. She remembered they were running because their lives depended on it. Luna was just behind her, Draco by her side, and Narcissa was leading them. Spells were cast against them, some passing just by their heads, others hitting the ground. Luna was scared, screaming at Hermione that they wouldn't make it. The grounds around the Malfoy Manor didn't allow for them to do apparition. Until they reached the forest just outside the Manor grounds, they needed to run.

 

One of the spells hit Narcissa on her back, and she failed to run as hard as she was, stopping for a second before she stupefy-ed a Death Eater that was behind them. After five minutes that looked like an eternity, Hermione finally began to see the trees, and laughed, turning her head to look at Luna. And that was when she saw it. Dolohov had caught her with a Stupefy, placing her on his shoulder clearly fainted. Draco was crying by now, yelling at his mother to run. And they ran. They left her behind.

 

Hermione would regret it for the rest of her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like a few of you asked: a chapter about what happened to Hermione and the other girls. I hope you enjoy it!


	13. Trial

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! We are closer than ever to the end of my story :) I hope you guys are enjoying it, and I would like very much any feedback that you could leave!
> 
> Just a disclaimer that this chapter has a lot of violent descriptions!
> 
>  **Trial** : _a formal examination of evidence before a judge, and typically before a jury, in order to decide guilt in a case of criminal or civil proceedings._

"Case number 394, please move forward."

 

That was what he was right now. A number on a case regarding the infringement over the wizards rights, and accounts for genocide, murder, torture, kidnapping, incarceration, and so many others he couldn't _fully_ memorize. He spent a week locked up in a dungeon over Azkaban before he became broken. No one would answer his questions about Luna. So, at one point, where the small recollection of memories he had became scarce, he lost all hope of seeing her alive again. And the funny thing was: Azkaban didn't even have dementors anymore. He had the sole responsibility for breaking his own soul.

 

And that was why, when they came to fetch him for his trial, he didn't present any resistance. When the judges began to argue among themselves about how he was clearly guilty, he opposed no discussion. What he had worthy of fighting for, now? That was the main question, dancing around his mind while he felt the stronghold of the handcuffs, forcing his hands on his back. Perhaps they were right: he had stepped too far, took his role for granted.

 

"He even _raped_ a former student. There is no necessity of presenting mercy. The right hand of You-Know-Who. We saw it over Goyle's memories: he was the second to choose a girl as a reward, making clear he was complacent with the kidnaps. I understand that he deserves the greater sentence..." Said a small woman, dressing a long gown and a beautiful golden cloth over her hair. Snape was paying little attention until someone interrupted the woman talking.

 

It was a very fat man, a small mustache hiding his upper lips, and he kept smoking a cigar that didn't present smoke. "The problem with your argument..." He said, looking over files scattered in front of him. "... is that we can prove the kidnap but not the rapes. The girl herself said she won't report him because of the..."

 

"Oh, William, Merlin forgive us if we try to understand the psychology of a kidnapped woman! She was in his power for over a year. Alone. Trapped in a room with him. Obviously, there is a small possibility that she won't report him due to..." She turned her head to the thin boy standing by her side, that had multiples files on his hands. "What is the word again?"

 

"Stockholm Syndrom, your honor." He whispered in her ear.

 

"Yes, like the _muggles_ would say. She might be suffering from the shock of the events, and it won't be you, William, or that baby she is contradictorily keeping..." Another woman interrupted her and agreed. "We must acknowledge that this pregnancy of Luna Lovegood is proof..."

 

A _baby_.

 

The happiness that their words meant Luna was still alive was quickly overshadowed by the report she was also pregnant. Snape flicked his eyes to the floor, trying to remember if he had ever seen any clue about this. But his mind was _so_ confused. He remembered her smile, and their first night together, and the sounds she made when he wanted her to wake up. Her memories were all there. With _his_ child.

 

So he would be a father. He had never thought of himself as a father to someone. Even after protecting Harry and Draco for most of their lives, he couldn't stop the harm to come to their way. How could he protect someone that he actually would love endlessly, then? If he wasn't capable of protecting Luna, how could he pick a new responsibility? Why should he? It was all so conflicting, so painful. He missed her. Her smell, her laugh, the way her hair waved against his pillows.

 

He suddenly noticed everyone over the balcony was staring at him. And while at first, he didn't notice fully why it came to him. A realization he couldn't deny.

 

It was his time to pronounce himself.

 

"I offer my memories." He said firmly. "You can all analyze my role over the events, and during Voldemort's reign. This way you will all understand why I consider myself _not_ guilty." He stated finally, moving his eyes to the floor again. A baby! And Luna was all alone with that news. To handle it all by herself. He had seen himself a lot of times during his life betraying people over his desire for power, but not this time. He would be there for her, even if her choice, in the end, would be to break up with him.

 

They took a while to discuss the new advances. Some refused, saying it would open a precedent, but most agreed that it was the best way to analyze fully his role into the Death Eater's proposals. And then, before he could finish thinking about Luna, and their baby, there was already someone holding a wand against his head.

 

The woman with the golden cloth over her hair looked at Snape and said in a surly tone. "We accept to analyze this evidence. But we are the ones that will choose _so_. We want prominent talk to Dumbledore before his death..." She lowered her eyes to a parchment before her, adjusting a pair of glasses on her nose. "... the night of the selection of Luna, the evidence _or not_ of sexual intercourse with your previous student, and the last encounter with Voldemort."

 

He didn't need to concentrate to establish most of those memories quite vividly in his mind. Obviously, he was quite self-conscious about the ones regarding his nights with Luna, but perhaps they could prove he didn't rape her. That he never had the intention of doing so. And before he could notice, there were five small vials in front of him, with transparent liquids floating around the glass, dancing into the perspective of a Pensieve.

 

The judges decided the fat mustache man would go in with the golden cloth woman, and soon a Pensieve was rolled to the court, allowing them both to approach it. The man offered the woman the first try, that she accepted, selecting one of the memories and placing easily inside the Pensieve. And soon, they were in it.

 

***

  
The office was dark, embraced in a weird dark light, a clear spot just over Snape and Dumbledore that looked at each other as if they were disputing something. The two judges acknowledge each other and suddenly were interrupted by Dumbledore's voice.

 

"We have protected him because it has been essential to teach him, to raise him, to let him try his strength," said Dumbledore, his eyes still tight shut. "Meanwhile, the connection between them grows ever stronger, a parasitic growth: Sometimes I have thought he suspects it himself. If I know him, he will have arranged matters so that when he sets out to meet his death, it will truly mean the end of Voldemort."

 

Dumbledore opened his eyes. Snape looked horrified.

 

"You have kept him alive so that he can _die_ at the right moment?... You have used me… I have _spied_ for you and _lied_ for you, put myself in mortal danger for you. Everything was supposed to keep Lily Potter's son safe. Now you tell me you have been raising him like a pig for _slaughter_!"

 

A cloud of smoke passed by them, the scene changing to the day Luna arrived in the Manor. The woman adjusted her hair under the golden piece and continued looking around, trying to understand what was going on. Her assistant was supposed to keep memories going for them. Cages. Tiny cages that could barely take a human properly inside, each one with a girl inside. Snape trying to deny Voldemort, his insistence. Snape's hands holding Luna firmly by her arm as he took her to their room.

 

There was an explosion of light. The room quickly moved and it felt like a quick show of horrors: Snape walking by a room, the door open ajar, his eyes peeking inside a view of Avery with his wand, drawing on the leg of one of his girls, that was passed out on the bed. The wand perforated her skin, and he wrote his name over her thighs, again and again, and again, staining the bed with blood from the bruises. Snape vomiting, on a plant vase over the corner, disgusted by the view.

 

A severed leg. Hanging from Greyback's mouth as he smiled. The owner of the leg, a boy that looked no older than 12 years old, laying in a pool of blood, the name 'Avery' written over and over again on the skin of his face. Like an old tv receiving static, what looked like Snape's mom in the corner, being beaten by his father with a leather belt. Greyback laughing with the boy's leg hanging from his mouth again, but this time Avery was thrusting a knife between a girl's legs, as she begged him to have mercy.

 

Snape crying. A loop. A _failed_ suicide attempt. Voldemort's anger. A punishment for being weak.

 

Smoke again, and Luna was sleeping on his chest, while he read a book before bed. She woke up from a nightmare, and he kissed the top of her head, whispering that no one would hurt her. This memory, like most of them, was corrupted: it changed quickly to another one of a party, Snape's face infuriated that a man had asked to use Luna, and then it all changed again to him telling her that he would protect her.

 

Soon they were standing on the edge of the stairs on the second floor of the Manor, observing Snape and Narcissa talking on the door of her room. His anxious manners, obsessively looking around. A few tears in his eyes, begging her to take Luna away. Narcissa eyes scanning him and her whispering. "So you _love_ her?" She tried, biting her lips. "I do." He replied, to what she closed her eyes. "This will be the death of me."

 

Light explosions again. Snape's temple hurt by the final fight over the living room. But it quickly changed to a meeting with Voldemort. "Severus, my dear follower. You can't keep allowing your little pet to flee. Or I might begin to consider you developed _feelings_ for something that is a mere object." The woman observed it with curiosity, before the mustache judge poked her, pointing to a scene developing by their backs. 

 

Luna was smiling. “… so, I am _sorry_ for crying during it.” Snape's wide eyes, his defensive tone. “What?” But the girl was visibly blushed, looking down at his chest as she was drawing something with the tip of her fingers. “You are apologizing because it hurt?” Snape continued, caressing her hair softly. “Yes, I really wanted you to like it. Because I _did_ before."

 

" _ENOUGH_!"

***

 

That was it. They were back at the court, the woman clearly disturbed for what she had seen, her breathing shallow and quickly paced. The man with the mustache simply sat down on a near chair, looking at her with disbelief. "We need time to consider this evidence." A couple of men that he couldn't quite recognize took Snape outside. They made him sit on a bench. Perhaps he had done something wrong with his memories? Perhaps he selected the wrong ones? The thing was: there was not much control over it. He simply gave what his mind had to give about the topics spoken. In the end, he was taken back to Azkaban, the judges not capable of continuing with the trial that day.

 

It took three days for him to go back to the court. This time, the mustache man was sitting right next to the woman in charge, that was wearing a purple hat this time, instead of the golden cloth. Her hair was tied in a bun, and she looked like she hadn't sleep in a few days. As Snape was sat down on the bench, the woman looked at him.

 

"It's astonishing how memories work." She said, licking her lips softly as she looked at her colleagues. "I can guess no one expected to see what we saw in that Pensieve, and that was why I made sure we all could go there and watch it. Because my words were not enough." The mustache man looked down, his features pink-ish.

 

"When we got inside for the first time, our first thought, Mr. Snape, was that you would provide us clear memories of the facts at stake. _You didn't_." She answered herself, looking the notes in front of her. "You gave us a recollection of fractured memories, and even if they allowed us to reach a verdict, they were way messier than we first thought they would be. And that rose questions. Over why a _follower_ of You-Know-Who, a _close_ follower, would be seen crying, vomiting or even trying suicide after presenting some of the facts of those memories."

 

"We called someone specialized. Even more to prove the evidence presented in your first memory, that you were helping Dumbledore. And the technician was very confident that some of those memories weren't supposed to be in that Pensieve. That you didn't put them into those vials on purpose. And that is the funny thing about memory, Mr. Snape. It's not linear like our lives. It's scattered. Associated. It cannot be understood quite _single_ observed. They need context. For example, Mr. Whitehall here couldn't understand exactly why you had two memories stuck together, happening at the same time in one of your vials."

 

The mustache man rose his hand as if presenting himself to the other judges and people present, making sure they knew he was Mr. Whitehall. But the woman ignored him and continued. "Our expert simply said that sometimes, we can associate memories. And in some of these times, we take harmful memories and associate with good ones so we might go on. Might keep sane."

 

"We can't deny, Mr. Snape, that your memories were a good insight about what happened inside the Malfoy Manor during that year. We can now be more exact about other verdicts because of your recollections. But we can't deny either the extent of how the presented facts show the psychological trauma you also suffered." She looked over to the other judges and they all agreed with her.

 

"That is why, in the light of how much your memories have helped us conduct other cases, and the extents of the damage that was caused by your proven  _double agent_ work..." At that point, a few people in the audience gasped and began to whisper among themselves, pointing at Snape. "... we consider you not guilty, of all your accusations, _but_ one: we couldn't get to the clear verdict about the core of your relationship with Luna Lovegood or either if you could have stopped any of the atrocities you dealt with. So you are sentenced to three months in Azkaban and five years of service to the Ministery after it. We want frequent proves of the way you will conduct your life after Azkaban, Mr. Snape. For the rest of your life. Otherwise, incarceration will be required. Everyone is dismissed."

 

And with that, Snape was taken again to Azkaban, without knowing about or seeing Luna.

 


	14. Truce

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Truce** : _an agreement between enemies or opponents to stop fighting or arguing for a certain time._

Three long months.

 

But if Snape had learned anything at Azkaban, was that those three months felt better than the week he spent before his trial, fearing the worst about Luna and about himself. It wasn't to be taken for granted: they were difficult and lonely weeks that he spent in a diminutive cell, behind thick bars, eating meals he didn't think that fully nourished his body. But everything became at least a little bit easier when he thought that once those three months were done, he would be able to go back home, and search for Luna.

 

This was another major problem that he dealt with during his time locked up. Where was Luna? He considered that perhaps the Order was taking care of her: Mrs. Weasley and her house that seemed to always be capable of host someone else; or perhaps she went back to her childhood home? He didn't know if her father was still alive at all, but it was a possible place for her to take refuge. Snape also wondered what was going on inside her mind. If she still thought about her, if her decision to keep the baby was based on the idea they might be a family after he finished his sentence. Or if she was already too attached to it to let it go, even knowing that what happened between them had been her way of surviving the impossible. 

 

He took a while to consider what happened during his trial, in that court. Which memories had changed so much the way that judge, in particular, that seemed to be presiding the whole thing, that she ended up changing her own mind about his sentencing? What good could she possibly have seen in him? Or what was the possible motive for pity? Because he had seen it. In their eyes. Not only in her eyes, under that big hat, but in all of them sitting on that fancy balcony. He had really tried to remain objective. 

 

But as he tried again to select the memories he had given to that court, more he got to the conclusion it was hard to be objective. His mind wandered around, linking events, connecting facts. He couldn't think about the day Voldemort had first brought gifts to them, without thinking about his own mother. How Greyback got three boys that had barely entered Hogwarts at all, how he was excited to share with Avery. Every time he remembered it, he instantly was taken back to a small space under the stairs of his childhood home. His long hair glued to his sweat skin, the fear that spread goosebumps against his skin. His father removing his belt from his trousers, his mother on the floor, trying to protect her face with her hands. And looking right at _him_. Her thin lips trying to show a smile at the moment of abuse.

 

Perhaps that judge was right. He had spilled over memories he didn't mean to show them. Because some of those things, he was still afraid of recollect _himself_.

 

Snape marked the stone walls, right next to the door of his cell, with a small stone that he had found laying around. Every sunrise, that bothered his eyelids and woke him up, even if he still felt like he hasn't slept enough. And every morning, the cellmate just next to him would begin to yell ' _you all killed my family! my family!_ ', in that tone of voice that could be mistaken for drunkenness if it wasn't clear enough he had become crazy. Snape, during some of his morning rituals of carving his days, would consider that perhaps this voice was really familiar to him, but after a few days tried to stop guessing who it belonged to.  Because the truth was that, during the last battle, he had been hit right in the beginning (see a pattern beginning to make itself clear here?), and he wasn't certain of which Death Eaters were still alive, and which of them were already dead.

 

The last day of incarceration wasn't marked on the wall. Snape woke up feeling the weirdly strong rays of sunshine against his face, and he sighed as he opened his eyes. He waited for the prison guard to come for him, just after his cellmate began the morning whinny. A guard showed up not many hours later, just after the breakfast (that consisted of a cup filled with sticky porridge). He opened the thick bars that were his home for solid three months and almost two weeks and pulled him by his weak arms. Snape tried to stay calm and follow the pace of the guard, avoiding any problems during his last day. 

 

However, it was impossible not to stop once he took a look at the person that was yelling at his family since the day of his sentencing. It took a while for Snape to recognize him since his hair was as dirty as Luna when she first got to the Malfoy Manor. But after a few seconds, it was undoubtful that that hair belonged to Lucius Malfoy. He approached the bars as Snape passed by, laughing with his teeth showing and placing his once aristocratic hands between the bars. "Old colleague! They are taking you like they took my family!" He said with a laugh, a now old scar visible from his hairline until his chin. His once pointy nose was now completely ruined, almost all cartilage gone, leaving just a small buddle of skin. "You will not go somewhere good, Snivellus! _Not good_!" He said, singing the last part before he went back yelling.

 

The guard pulled Snape quickly and rolled his eyes. "I already told the Aurors to do something, Todd." He whispered to another guard that came into their direction, which was supposed to make company to Snape from then on. "But they say that he _too_ dangerous to go to St. Mungus. Although sometimes, I must say, I enjoy seeing the _magnificent_ Lucius Malfoy cuckoo because of a cruciatus curse right in that cocky nose of his". Snape's handcuffs were removed, and he was taken to by the other guard to his life again.

 

***

 

His house felt weird now. After so many years of returning to it just during Hogwarts' holidays, it felt strange to come back without a deadline to go. The Spinner's End Street was still the same, with the old brick houses, not taller than three floors. The street lamps continued in your majority broken, the scent in the air was still not completely clean. But Snape felt satisfied he had somewhere to go back to, at least. He probably still had enough money over Gringotts to go somewhere else, if it was the case. However, not for now. Because now his energy would be over finding Luna.

 

He opened the front door, trying to remember those walls covered in bookshelves. Memories that seemed from such a long time ago. He hoped the wine on the storeroom was still good, because he needed a drink. A well-deserved drink. And probably a shower, before the drink itself, because he couldn't wait to get rid of the same clothes he had been wearing for three whole months now. That was the main thought and the plan: a shower, a drink, and find _his_ Luna. His Luna and their baby. Obviously, he was very much surprised when the evening didn't go as planned.

 

As he opened the door, he was suddenly hit by a golden light. So different from the dirty dark street behind him. The house was warm, the hall lights were turned on, and a great smell of home-cooked meal was in the air. The bookshelves were still there, immaculately clean, his books organized by author. The coffee table wasn't filled with papers and documents as he previously had left the last time he was around: it was all clean now if it weren't from a book about magical creatures and a glass of water. The documents were all selected in folders by the sideboard. snape continued, taking a fearful step towards the most illuminated place in the house, the kitchen.

 

The only explanation he could think about was that the Ministry had taken his house. And there was already another family living there. That was the only explanation for his methodical mind, for why his books were organized and his house all clean for the first time in forever, until he placed his eyes on the pair of women by the kitchen. Narcissa was shaking her head to Luna, saying she would ruin the whole recipe if she continued to try adding more spices. Luna was leaning against the sink, one of her hands caressing softly the place on her showing belly just below her breasts, while moody telling Narcissa that _it surely needed more paprika_. 

 

"Luna?" Snape whispered softly, not even paying attention when Draco got inside the house by the backyard door, rolling his eyes at a vase of flowers. Luna rose her eyes from her belly, observing him surprised before she walked, as fast as she could, to his encounter. "Severus, oh for Merlin!" She glued herself to him, as much as she could, her head against his collarbones as she asked over and over again if he was alright. He wanted to tell her to stop hugging him, that he was probably way too filthy to even dare to touch her, but the girl kept hugging him against her until she rose her eyes to meet his. She smiled, a sincere and amorous smile before she kissed him. "I missed you, I missed you so much. It was so difficult not being able to talk to you... I am so sorry. _I am so sorry_." She kept repeating, her lips against his as she kept pressing him against her. 

 

"I love you." He blurted out, not being able to control himself. He would probably regret doing it in front of Narcissa and her stupid boy, but he couldn't take any longer to tell her this. He waited almost four months to finally make sure she knew, that even after the war, and the prison, that he indeed loved her. "I love you too, Sev." She whispered, giving him another light kiss before Narcissa finally said something. "Luna, let him go take a shower and change for supper, I suppose that what he was looking forward besides you." She said with her usual moody tone, adding the dash of paprika Luna was fighting over a few seconds ago. "Draco, sweetie, that wasn't the flower vase I asked you to fetch..."

 

Snape took Luna by her hand, pulling her upstairs with him. There was no way he would let go of her now. Actually, never _again_.

 

***

 

Harry paced around, his hands brushing against his face, as Mrs. Weasley tried to control him, hold him, or anything that could comfort his feelings. His face was completely taken by anxious tears, his hands shaking while he tried to form sentences that came out from his mouth like incoherent babbles. No one had been able to help. Hermione had tried to comfort him, talking about the plans of the Ministry to Hogwarts, while Ginny invited him for a Quidditch match in their backyard. It was of no use, it was all of no use until Fleur got downstairs from her room and stated that, _clearly_ , Harry was having some sort of emotional issue. 

 

But what seemed a one-time event due to the last battle he had to fight in the Malfoy Manor, the previous day, became a routine in the Weasley's home. Harry became each time more difficult to calm during one of his crisis, and suddenly, just walking around the room scratching the skin on the back of his hands didn't help him. He began to pull large tufts of his own hair, his speech turning into a paranoic blabber about how _he_ was still around, still waiting for him. He began hiding under the kitchen's table, holding his legs against his chest and doing that small acts self-mutilation, that no one knew how to stop.

 

Mrs. Weasley felt like spinning into a spiral of sadness. It wasn't enough that Fred was gone, and George was still having a hard time to adjust to it over a year after. She was also losing who she considered her adoptive son, and do something that she couldn't possibly understand or knew how to help. Like a good mother that didn't make any difference between her children, Harry's behavior felt a lot like losing Fred all over again. Until one day, her mother's heart couldn't take it any longer. Ginny had found him in the backyard digging a hole in the ground and saying they should abdicate magic and construct a _bunker_. Something related to how muggles dealt with wars. His wand was broken in two pieces, sticking on the ground right next to the door of the kitchen. 

 

 _Psychotic Depression_ was what a doctor from St. Mungus had whispered to her, as he had arrived for an evaluation. Ginny had begun to cry, holding a more calm Harry against her lap as he laid on the sofa with her. She kissed the top of his head, as she tried to understand how he had gotten like this. His gentle personality during their school years, how he became bitter and angry during Voldemort's reign, how he was always giving ideas, each time more suicidal than before. But they all had taken it for a temporary mood. They all had thought that it was his way of dealing with the pressure of things to come. Of the big role cast for him even before his birth.

 

After all, he did exactly what he was supposed to. But after Severus sentence was out, Ginny began to agree with it, even if a little bit. Harry was rose like a pig to slaughter, a causality that was waited to die but fulfill his role. Dumbledore was very certain of that. At the moment he won that battle against Voldemort, his skinny body falling to the floor like an old tree, scattering dust around the living room, perhaps that was the moment that his life had ended. If not in a literal, at least in a figurative way. How could it be so hard to let him go even knowing that? 

 

She didn't. But Harry was hospitalized in St. Mungus, anyway.


	15. Spoils

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Spoils** : _goods, advantages, or profits obtained by winning a war or being in a particular position or situation._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, I want to start my last chapter thanking you. My reader. I suppose I don't write for someone to read, it's my way to explore my anxiety and pull out there whatever is happening inside of me. A way to understand my place in the world. But it's so good when someone appreciates it. When you know you have someone that is enjoying your work and supporting it. So, thank you very much for keep reading it. Even when I took a while to update, even when the story didn't take the course you were expecting.
> 
> Second, I want to thank @Tati_Skywalker and @Laubz, my friends in real life that since the beginning of this story - the conception of the idea and the construction of the narrative over the chapters - supported my decision to go public with my stories. This is my first public work, and this only happened because they encouraged me to do so.
> 
> Last, and perhaps the most important, I would like to thank Leonardo. You support me in all of my projects, always have since the first time we met. You didn't even know quite well what fanfic was when we first met, but you were always present to read and develop new ideas. You will never have any idea how thankful I am for having you in my life, Lele <3
> 
> PLEASE KEEP READING MY STORIES! I already published another work entitled [Star-Crossed Lovers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11651604), a Doctor/River one-shot light-hearted fanfic. And I am currently working on a new one, the [Dance of the Sugar Plum Omega](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13684332), a Sherlolly angst/romance/omegaverse! Please continue following my writing and commenting <3

They had supper together that evening, but Narcissa and Draco were gone just after the meal was finished and the kitchen was clean. He liked to know Luna didn't spend her time alone, but he was really looking forward to some time alone with her. There were too many things that needed to be said. And he wouldn't wait anymore or hold to himself like he used to do. After eating, and already feeling comfortable again on his own clothes, laying on his bed with Luna sitting by his side, he finally felt relaxed after almost four months. Actually, he felt relaxed in a way he had never felt before.

 

"You have no idea how thankful I am, that it's all over." He said, his eyes still closed as he took a deep breath. Luna was sitting against the headboard and agreed with her head. She looked down at him, that was staring back at her now. "You didn't spend these last three months alone here, right?" He wondered, observing her eyes. She shook her head, giving a smile to calm him down. "I have been over the Weasley's with Hermione. I wrote to Narcissa last week because I wanted you to come back to a tidy place. She brought Draco to help, and he cleaned around and bought some food. I hope you don't get angry that I changed some stuff around." She said with a shy half-smile, looking down at the bed sheets. 

 

He didn't, obviously. He enjoyed organized places, he just didn't do it around his own house because deep down, he didn't think he deserved it. Or at least, it was a waste of time, since he didn't consider it properly a home. He never did. Hogwarts looked like a home, but he never actually fitted in, not as a student, and not as a teacher. The most special place had been that ridiculously small room they shared for over a year. "You can do anything you like around here." He assured her, sitting on the bed and looking down at her belly. There was no way anymore in denying the white elephant in the room, right? "Luna, you often apologize too much, you know this. But I know that I should... tell you that I am sorry. For not being able to be there, when you... discovered it." He said with a sad smile.

 

"You were there." She said with a weak laugh. "I discovered while still there, Severus. I would tell you during our Christmas dinner. I had a gift and everything. And a letter. I suppose it was a good letter, I don't remember much of it anymore. I was waiting for you in our room with your gift when the explosions began and I went outside..." A single tear fell from one of her eyes as she sighed. "... I was so worried about you. I wanted to be there in case someone accused you of anything, I would tell them you are good. You always were, deep down. But, I got hit by a spell. A _sectumsempra_ on my tight and it quickly became messy and suddenly, I am sorry, but suddenly I couldn't think of you anymore."

 

Luna gave him a sad smile and gave a stroke again on the top of her belly, not looking into Severus' eyes. "Narcissa told me that when you are pregnant, there is always a moment when you go from _pregnant_ to _mother_. I think that was my moment." She said softly, picking his hand slowly and placing it right where she was caressing. "Suddenly, I still loved myself, and I still loved you, but we didn't quite matter anymore. At that moment, all I could think about was that I was supposed to do anything to keep _our little girl alive_." Severus shifted his sight from Luna's face to her belly, where he could clearly feel small movements under her skin. "Mr. Weasley and Narcissa rescued us, very quickly. I own a lot to her, Severus. Sometimes, during your trial when they questioned me, and they didn't even allow you to be there, and they kept repeating that you had raped me, all I _had_ was her understanding. She understood my desire to keep my baby when no one else did."

 

 

"So it's a little girl?" He tried to confirm, some tears falling and running by his crooked nose. Luna confirmed with her head, feeling Snape lean forward and place a kiss right where the baby had just been kicking. 

 

***

 

Hermione wedded Ron, even if she constantly continued to keep writing with Draco. They talked to each other almost every week, and she at one point began to send him pictures of her children, drawings, small proves that she was still alive somewhere, trying to be happy. He would always write her back in black ink and minimalist paper, his once direct manners turned into long writings about his doubts about his life and career. At one point, she agreed to accept, at least to herself, that she indeed had learned to love him. But it was too late, her children were already around the end of childhood, and she didn't have the guts to begin a new life. Hermione could be many things, but she was methodical, and would never leave a safe marriage with one of her best friends, for a teenager tortured passion. Most of her days, she lied to herself saying it was part of her traumatic experiences. But everytime a new letter came, she answered it in the same day.

 

Ginny visited Harry for the rest of his life. She would go bearing snacks and little candies, that was supposed to make him happy and excited. Some days, his medication was too heavy for him to be able to even recognize her properly. But she kept going. After a few months, he asked her if she didn't have a boyfriend that would be jealous of how much time she spent there with him. She answered she was in love with someone special already. The years passed. She saw her family grown with his sibling's children, but she never let go of Harry. Not until his breathing became shallow and he couldn't hide from Death anymore, using his invisibility cloak. It took a few years, but when Death arrived, he received her like an old friend. She retired as one of the best Quidditch professional players of all times, but she never gave anyone Harry's place in her heart.

 

If anything could be said about the lives affected during the known Last Battle of the Prophecy was that war, like magic, comes with a price. They all carried scars. Some more open and publically visible, others were hidden by behavior or fake smiles. A _truce_ didn't mean a _victory_ , and the _spoil_  was simply to survive.

 

This doesn't mean, that for Luna, she didn't get some sort of happy ending. At least that what she was telling herself, when she received a letter from Ginny, containing a picture of the Weasleys visiting Harry, that was supposed to be their Christmas photo of that year. Harry was wearing a new sweater in red, being hugged by Ron and Ginny. George was making silly faces behind his mother, that held hands with her husband. The letter was accompanied with a small pack, that held an infant-sized Weasley sweater for her baby.

 

They had married just a few weeks after he went back home. Just the two of them, a simple wedding in exchange for such a troubled dating. Snape had asked for Luna to move somewhere else because he didn't need the memories of Lily and their childhood memories so physically close anymore. Lily would always live in a small place in his heart, but now he needed to think about the best for his small family. And that house, in the middle of a textile area, wasn't the best. So they chose a proper two-floor house with a small backyard and iron black fences, so their child would have somewhere to play and run outside. The living room still had the endless bookshelves, and Luna still had to impose some sort of organization in the beginning, but Snape always tried his best. 

 

Their girl was born healthy, and when she completed six months, they hosted a small reception to properly introduce the baby to their families and friends. Narcissa was completely silly around the baby, still shocked to be invited to be her godmother; while Mrs. Weasley was making sure everyone knew that that baby was indeed his godchild. It doesn't need to be said that the little girl had more rubber ducks that their bathtub was capable of filling.Mr. Weasley had actually made sure to make her whole room themed after little ducks.

 

They had named her Iris Eileen Snape. It was obviously Luna's idea, but Snape agreed. She was indeed the rainbow after the storm in their lives, and it was a growing sentiment that, someday, this would help to completely make peace with his family's memories.

 

At the end of the party, Luna caught Snape picking the small baby from the crib and walking outside, to sit by the sun that was setting. The tip of his fingers stroked the baby's pinkish cheeks, just under her beautiful blue eyes. His fingertips moved to her thin black hair, smiling to himself that at least she didn't have his nose. That was already a winning, after all. Luna sat by his side, seeing that he was listening to a sad classical music. She disheveled her daughter's hair and looked at Snape, giving him a smile. "Are you okay, love?" She leaned closer, placing her chin on his shoulder. 

 

"I don't know. Sometimes it feels like I got more than I deserved." He answered with a sad smile. "I will get better, it's just... I still need to deal with some stuff that Pensieve brought up." He finished, holding the baby closer against his chest. Luna kissed his temple before she whispered, in her loving manner. "This doesn't need to be your theme song anymore. You don't need a **Death Eater's Waltz** , Severus. You are finally free."

 

And he agreed. All _would be_ well.


End file.
